THE 
BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 



._,-'■'■ 0-'=' -3 "•= A 




THE BATTLE OF THE 
WILDERNESS 



BY 

MORRIS SCHAFF 

AUTHOR OP 
'the 8PIBIT OF OLD WEST POINT' 



WITH MAPS AND PLANS 




BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 

(atlje Ritcriiibe J^tt0 CambriOoe 

1910 






COPYRIGHT, I9IO, BY MORRIS SCHAFF 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 

Published October iqio 



'C!.A'^?ol <4 



This booJc is dedicated to the memory of my mother 

Cljarlotte i^art^ril ^cljaff 

buried in the little graveyard at Etna Ohio 

and whose gentle clay has long since 

blended with the common earth 

MOKRIS SCHAFP 



LIST OF MAPS 

Battle-field of the Wilderness . . . Frontispiece 

Country between the Rapidan and Rappahan- 
nock 52 

Country South of the Rapidan 68 

General Map of the Wilderness 122 

Country South of the Rappahannock .... 144 



THE BATTLE OF THE 
WILDERNESS 



I 



From time to time, one or two friends have urged me 
to write of the war between the States, in which, as a 
boy, I took a humble part just after graduating at 
West Point; but I have always answered that nature 
had not given me the qualifications of a historian, 
and that, moreover, every nook and corner of the 
field had been reaped and garnered. So, I kept on my 
way. But not long ago, while in a meditative mood, a 
brooding peace settled over my mind, and lo! across 
a solemn gorge, and far up and away against the past, 
lay the misting field of History. While as in dream- 
land my inward eye was wandering bewitched over it, 
a voice hailed me from a green knoll at the foot of 
which burst a spring whose light-hearted current 
wimpled away to a pond hard by. " Come over here," 
said the voice, beckoning ; and seeing that I stood 
still, and wore a perplexed look, it added feelingly, 
"You have written your boyhood memories of your 
old home, and you have written those of your cadet 
days at West Point; am I not dear to you, too.^* I am 
your boyhood memories of the War." At once, from 



2 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

the fields of Virginia the Army of the Potomac lifted 
as by magic and began to break camp to go on its last 
campaign; its old, battle-scarred flags were fluttering 
proudly, the batteries were drawing out, the bronze 
guns that I had heard thunder on many fields were 
sparkling gayly, and my horse, the same wide-nos- 
triled, broad-chested, silky-haired roan, stood sad- 
dled and bridled before my tent. The trumpets 
sounded; and, as their notes died away, I picked up 
the pen once more. 

Upon graduating at West Point in June, 1862, I 
was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in the Ord- 
nance Corps and assigned to duty under that loyal, 
deeply-brown-eyed, modest Virginia gentleman and 
soldier, Captain T. G. Baylor, commanding the 
Arsenal at Fort Monroe. Fort Monroe, or Old Point 
Comfort (which is the loving and venerable historic 
name of the place), at that time and throughout the 
war was the port and station of greatest importance 
on our southern seaboard. Situated practically at the 
mouth of the James, it not only commanded the out- 
let from the Confederate capital at Richmond, but 
also the navigation of the Chesapeake and the Po- 
tomac, and offered a safe point for the assembly of 
fleets and armies preparatory to taking the offensive. 
When I reached there, it was the base of supplies for 
the Army of the Potomac, then on the last stage of its 
disastrous Peninsula campaign, and also for Burn- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 3 

side's army operating on the coast of North Carohna. 
Moreover, it was the rendezvous of our Atlantic 
squadrons and of the foreign men-of-war, which, 
drawn as eagles to the scene of our conflict, came in, 
cast their anchors, and saluted the flag, though the 
hearts of most of them were not with us. The little 
Monitor was lying there, basking in her victory over 
the huge, ungainly Merrimac; and alongside of her, 
their yards towering far above her, lay the pride of 
the old navy, the Wabash, the Colorado, and the 
Minnesota. Vessels, sail and steam, were coming and 
going, and the whole harbor was alive with naval and 
military activity. Nor did it cease when night came 
on; at all hours you could hear the wharves' deep 
rumblings, and the suddenly rapid clanking of hoist- 
ing engines as ships loaded or discharged their car- 
goes; while from off in the harbor we could hear the 
childlike bells on the grim • war-vessels striking the 
deep hours of the night. 

It was my first acquaintance with the sea, and I 
think I was fortunate in the spot where I gained my 
first impressions of it. For never yet have I stood on 
a beach where the water, rocking in long, regular beats, 
as if listening to music in its dreams, spread away 
in such mild union with the clouds and sunshine. 

The Army of the Potomac, whose fortunes I was to 
share on many a field, had just been through the 
fierce battles of Fair Oaks, Gaines's Mill, Glendale 
(orFrayser's Farm as it iscalled by the Confederates), 



4 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and Malvern Hill. In these desperate engagements it 
had been driven from the Chickahominy, and was 
then huddled around Harrison's Landing on the 
north bank of the James, about twenty-five miles 
below Richmond. The army had suffered terribly in 
this campaign, known as that of the Peninsula; but 
the government, though cast down and sorely disap- 
pointed at the outcome, immediately responded with 
vigor to its needs, and the river and Hampton Roads 
were lined day and night with transports taking sup- 
plies of all kinds to it, and bringing back the sick and 
wounded, of whom there were very, very many. Its 
commander was McClellan, perhaps the war's great- 
est marvel as an example of personal magnetism, and 
one of Fortune's dearest children ; yet one who, when 
Victory again and again poised, ready to light on his 
banner, failed to give the decisive blow. The authori- 
ties at Washington, never quite satisfied with Mc- 
Clellan and never confident that he would win, har- 
bored, I am satisfied, a political dread of him should 
success attend him; and now, finding him cooped up 
at Harrison's Landing, organized an army to operate 
between Washington and Richmond, and had 
assigned to its command that really able and much 
abused soldier, John Pope, thereby hoping to get rid 
of McClellan. 

When Pope's army on the upper Rappahannock 
was threatened with overthrow, the Army of the Po- 
tomac was recalled to Washington. It marched down 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 5 

the Peninsula to Old Point Comfort, where transports 
had been gathered to meet it. During that time 
McClellan and his staff were at our officers' mess for 
several days, and on one occasion I lunched almost 
alone with him. So sweet and winsome was he, that 
I ever after was one of his sympathetic and ardent 
admirers. Later on I served with Hooker, Burnside, 
Meade, and Grant, each of whom in turn followed 
him at the head of the Army of the Potomac; but 
were that old army to rise from its tomb, not one of 
them would call out such cheers as those which would 
break when "Little Mac," as it loved to call him, 
should appear. He was a short, compact, square- 
shouldered, round-bodied man, with a low forehead 
and heavily wrinkled brow. 

It took three or four days to embark the troops, 
and meanwhile I visited the camps of many of my 
West Point friends, and for the first time heard the 
trumpets of the dear old army. At last they were all 
aboard, and I watched them heading off up the Ches- 
apeake and longed to go with them, with my friends 
of cadet days, Custer, Cushing, Woodruff, Bowen, 
Kirby, Dimick, and others, — all of whose cheery, 
young faces seemed to diffuse the very air of glory, 
while the colors of Regulars and Volunteers seemed 
to beckon me to follow as they were borne away. 

The Army of the Potomac had come to be recog- 
nized at home and abroad as the country's chief safe- 
guard, the one firm barrier to be relied upon to hold 



6 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Washington. For, the National Capital once in the 
hands of the Confederates, the cause of the Union 
would be irretrievably lost. None saw this fact 
clearer than the cold-eyed commercial power of the 
North, yet whose heart throbbed with the common 
love of the country's ideals. So, all over the North, 
and especially in the region east of the Alleghanies 
where the most of its rank and file were reared, the 
people were proud of the Army of the Potomac; and 
at sunrise and sunset, and around every fireside, 
offered their prayers for it. Fearful indeed had been, 
and were to be, its trials. It had lost much blood, but 
the people knew that it was ready to lose still more 
before it would yield to a truce or ignominious peace. 

From the parapets of Fortress Monroe I saw that 
army move away. It soon met its old antagonist, the 
Army of Northern Virginia, the flower of the South- 
ern armies, on the field of Manassas, and then, just as 
autumn's golden glow began to haze the fields, at 
Antietam; and at last under Burnside in the short, 
cold days of December, it made its frightful assault 
on Lee's entrenchments along Marye's Heights, back 
of Fredericksburg. It never showed greater valor, 
and its losses were sickening. The army wintered on 
the Rappahannock, opposite Fredericksburg, and 
in sight of the lines it had vainly tried to carry. 

Now and then I heard from my friends with the 
army, and day after day continued my duties in the 
shops, or testing big guns on the beach, wondering if 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 7 

the war would be over before I should see any active 
service in the field. Thus winter was passed and spring 
came — and nowhere does her face wear such a smile 
as at Old Point. The last of the migrating birds had 
gone over us, the daj^s were lengthening, and I knew 
that the army would soon be moving again, and 
longed more and more to be with it. But my wonder 
and longing were soon to end. 

On April 16, Captain Baylor called me into the 
office, and with a smile handed me the following : — 

War Department, 
Adjutant-General's Office, 
Washington, April 15, 1863. 

Special Orders No. 173 

24. First Lieut. Morris Schaff, Ordnance Depart- 
ment, is hereby assigned to duty with the Army of the 
Potomac, and will report in person without delay to 
Major-General Hooker, Commanding. 

By Order of the Secretary of War, 

E. D. TOWNSEND, 

Assistant Adjutant-General. 

Great was my delight ! I was in my twenty-second 
year, and what a mere, undeveloped boy! I bade 
good-by to Captain and Mrs. Baylor, and I never 
think of them without the tenderest emotion. He and 
a little group of friends, — in those days, as now, I 
made friends slowly, — all of whom were my seniors, 
went with me to the boat, and soon I was on my way. 



8 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Hooker's headquarters were at the Phillips house 
on one of the hills known as the hills of Stafford, which 
shoulder up in array along the north bank of the Rap- 
pahannock. On reporting to him I was assigned as 
assistant to his chief of Ordnance, the big-hearted 
Captain D. W. Flagler (with whom I had been at 
West Point for three years), thereby becoming a part 
of the headquarters-staff of the army. I never saw 
Hooker's equal in soldierly appearance ; moreover, 
there was a certain air of promise about him, — at 
least so he impressed me, — as he came riding up 
to headquarters just after I got there. His plans 
were made, and he was almost ready to move. 

A few days after I had reported, he sent for- 
Flagler, and gave him orders to have a supply of 
ammunition at the White House on the Pamunkey, 
which, as every one knows, is not far from Richmond, 
remarking that he had Lee's army in his grasp, and. 
could crush it like that, — closing his hand firmly. 
When Flagler came back to the tent, and told me 
what the general had said, the big fellow smiled; and, 
in the light of what happened, well he might: for 
within a few weeks, at Chancellorsville (lying just 
within the eastern border of the Wilderness) , Hooker 
met a crushing defeat, and his laurels, like those of 
his predecessors, McClellan, Burnside, and Pope, 
were permanently blasted. 

The outlook from our headquarters, a truly vener- 
able Virginia manor-house, was commanding and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 9 

interesting. Before it, on the other side of the river, 
and dreaming of its historic past, lay the old colonial 
town of Fredericksburg, in whose graveyard Wash- 
ington's mother is buried. At the foot of the hill was 
the Rappahannock, bearing on peacefully between 
its willow-fringed banks, the Confederate pickets on 
one, and ours on the other in open view. Starting at 
the river side is a plain running off level as a floor, 
nearly a mile, to a line of low encircling hills known as 
Marye's Heights. Fences, stone walls, and sunken 
roads mark the slopes of these hills, and on Decem- 
ber 13, 186^, the ground in front of them was blue, 
but not with autumn's last blooming flower, the 
gentian, but with our dead. Back of the hills were 
fringes of timber, and then the rim of the bending sky. 
There lay Lee's intrepid army, under the command of 
Longstreet, Hill, and Stonewall Jackson. The view 
had a pensive charm for me, and I could look at it 
hour after hour. 

At last all was ready, and Hooker, masked by the 
woods, moved up the river, crossed, and entered the 
Wilderness with boldness. He no sooner breathed its 
air than he lost all vigor, became dazed, and at Chan- 
cellorsville met his fate. In this savage encounter 
three of my young friends were either killed or mor- 
tally wounded: Marsh, Kirby, and Dimick. 

It will be remembered that Stonewall Jackson, 
conceded by friend and foe to be the ablest and most 
formidable corps commander of modern times, lost 



10 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

his life by a volley from his own men at this battle of 
Chancellorsville, when on the very verge of deliver- 
ing what might have proved a mortal blow to the 
Army of the Potomac. As the circumstances of this 
event, so momentous to the Confederacy, repeated 
themselves with startling fidelity just a year later on 
the same road, and not two miles away, in the battle 
of the Wilderness, stopping again, but this time for 
good and all, Lee's hour-hand of victory, there is 
established a mysteriously intimate and dramatic 
relation between the two battles, which will be 
revealed in its entire significance, I hope, as the 
narrative makes its way. On the day Stonewall was 
buried the bells of Fredericksburg tolled sadly, and 
across the river came to us the plaintive strains of 
their bands playing dirges. 

After Chancellorsville the defeated army staggered 
back to its old encampments, and the writer returned 
to the ordnance depot at Aquia Creek. There I saw 
Abraham Lincoln for the first and only time. He was 
seated in an ordinary, empty freight-car, on a stout 
plank supported at each end by a cracker-box. Hal- 
leck, in undress uniform, was on his left, a big man 
with baggy cheeks and pop eyes. Mr. Lincoln was 
gazing off over the heads of the staring groups of 
soldiers and laborers white and black, to the silent, 
timbered Virginia shore of the Potomac. He seemed 
utterly unconscious of all who had gathered about 
him. He was on his way to Hooker's headquarters, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 11 

and looked, and doubtless felt, sad enough. The 
world knows his features well. Plainer or more un- 
predictive externals nature never spread over the 
genius to govern; but then she put in his breast as 
kind and lyric a heart as ever beat. 

Elated by his victory and urged on by the state of 
the Confederacy's resources and his natural inclina- 
tion for the offensive, Lee, within a month, began the 
movements toward the upper Potomac which culmi- 
nated in the battle at Gettysburg, where for a time 
I remained, collecting the arms that were left on the 
field. I little dreamed then, as I rode and walked over 
that famous field, what an epoch it marked in the 
history of the war. Through the vast amount that 
has been written about the battle, and the devoted 
spirit in which the field has been preserved, and the 
services of those who fell commemorated, an im- 
pression prevails that the fate of the Confederacy 
was sealed that day, — an impression which a com- 
prehensive view of the situation will, I believe, chal- 
lenge if not remove. Let me state the grounds of my 
disbelief, and, if they do not convince, they may at 
least serve as a background for the narrative, aiding 
us to weigh the issues hanging on the campaign of 
1864. 

When Grant was brought on from the West, and 
took virtual command of the Army of the Potomac, 
in the spring after Gettysburg, the war had been 
raging for three years. First and last, the North had 



12 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

put into the field rising two million men; and, 
although important victories, such as Vicksburg, 
Gettysburg, and Missionary Ridge, had been won, 
and obviously the North had had the best of it, yet 
there is no gainsaying that her condition was peril- 
ous and her disappointments great. She had hoped 
and had sincerely believed that long ere that time 
she would have put down the Rebellion, and keenly 
she felt the sneers of the old world as she struggled 
for existence. But, notwithstanding her supreme 
efforts, the South was in some respects closer knit 
than ever, and far from being conquered. 

And now, at the end of three years of desperate war, 
she was staggering under a mighty debt, the Confed- 
erate cruisers had driven her commerce from the sea, 
volunteering, which had begun spontaneously and 
with burning enthusiasm, had stopped, and the ad- 
ministration had been forced to resort to the draft. 
Successive defeats had bred factions within and with- 
out the cabinet, — factions made up of governors, 
editors, and senators, all secretly denouncing Mr. 
Lincoln and his administration, and actively plot- 
ting to defeat him at the forthcoming convention. 

To make matters worse, the government, fretted 
by repeated reverses, had become more and more 
irritable, and, as was natural with the continuance 
of the war, more and more arbitrary. Those in offi- 
cial life who criticised its policies were turned upon 
fiercely; the press, never an easy friend or foe to deal 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 13 

with in time of peril, was threatened with muzzling, 
and some papers were actually suppressed, and their 
proprietors imprisoned; the provost-marshals, of 
necessity invested with wide but delicate military 
authority, often became despotic in their arrests, 
and almost habitually haughty in parading of their 
office, — their haughtiness aggravated by ignorance, 
vanity, and bad manners. Under it all, discontent 
had grown and spread, until, by the time the cam- 
paign of 1864 was ready to open, in the states border- 
ing on the Ohio there was a secret organization said 
to have had over four hundred thousand members, 
a coagulation of all phases of political hatred and 
tainted loyalty, only waiting for a substantial defeat 
of the Union army to break out into an open demand 
for an armistice, which, of course, meant the recog- 
nition of the South. 

As a proof of the depth and reality of this over- 
hanging danger, see the action of some of the courts, 
and the attempt of the legislature of Indiana to 
transfer the control of the state's arsenal, with its 
eighteen thousand arms, — directly, to be sure, to 
three trustees, but in the end to that ostensibly 
peace-seeking yet practically traitorous organization. 
Meantime throughout the North patriotism was 
smothering under the bitterness of faction, and the 
blighting evil of indifference to the country's glory, 
an indifference that nurses always at the breast of 
commercial prosperity. At the same time corruption 



14 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

in official life, and dissipation in various forms, ran 
riot and made their way, undermining civic morals 
and manly virtues. Never were gambling-houses so 
common, low theatres so crowded, streets gayer, or 
the rotundas of hotels and the richly furnished rooms 
of fashionable clubs more frequented by young, able- 
bodied, well-dressed "high rollers" and champagne- 
drinkers. Yet, let the sound of a drum be heard 
in the street at the head of some returning body of 
veterans, — whom not one of them had had the cour- 
age or manliness to join in defense of the country, 
— and lo! up would go the windows of the clubs, 
and they and the balconies of every hotel would be 
filled with cheering men. 

This being the state of affairs, let us suppose that 
Lee, at the outset of the campaign of 1864, had de- 
feated the Army of the Potomac decisively, and had 
driven Grant back across the Rappahannock, as he 
had driven Burnside, Pope, and Hooker, — how loud 
and almost irresistible would have been the cry for 
an armistice, supported (as it would have been) by 
Wall Street and all Europe! Where, then, would have 
been the victory of Gettysburg? In view of the dis- 
parity of numbers and the depleted resources of the 
Confederacy, was it possible for Lee to have given 
such a blow? Yes, and had not Fate registered her 
decree that at the critical moment Longstreet was 
to fall in the Wilderness as Jackson had fallen at 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 15 

Chancellorsville, he would have come near doing so. 
And so, great as was the victory at Gettysburg, I 
am not at all convinced that it was decisive, remem- 
bering, as I do, how the balance trembled more than 
once in the campaign from the Rapidan. 

But, however this may be, it must not be forgotten 
that, counterbalancing the incongruous gayety and 
dissipation that prevailed in our large cities, the 
dying down of early ardor, and the disloyal hives 
that were ready to swarm, there were thousands of 
pure, high-minded, resolute men and women who re- 
mained faithful to their ideals and kept the national 
spirit alive; who, in sunshine and shadow, for the 
glory of the country and their generation, upheld 
Mr. Lincoln's hands and stood by him to the last 
most loyally. Neither defeat, pleas for peace, nor 
desire for ease prevailed against their heaven-inspired 
and steel-hardened determination to fight the Con- 
federacy to an end; and on them and the army in the 
field, I think, the honors of carrying the country 
through its perils should fall. 

It is true, and for the sake of history it should be 
recorded, that while a great majority of those stead- 
fast, loyal people of the North had felt that slavery 
was wrong and altogether out of harmony with civil- 
ization and the spirit of a free government, yet in the 
beginning of the war they had no desire or intent to 
interfere with it in the states; so dear were the mem- 
ories of the Revolution, and so deep their reverence 



16 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

for Washington and his fellow slave-holding com- 
patriots who had joined Puritan New England in 
establishing the independence of the colonies. More- 
over, and notwithstanding those galling irritations 
which always attend the concession of social and 
political dominance, the North had not inherited 
any active hates or vindictiveness, although it had 
felt deeply of late the repeated scorn and increasing 
arrogance of the political leaders of the South, mani- 
fested in the discussion of slavery that had been 
going on for twenty or thirty years. It is needless to 
say that the language in Congress grew more and 
more heated, or that it was marked more and more 
by asperity of criticism and ugliness of temper and 
insolence of bearing. Neither side was fair in judging 
the convictions or the situation of the other. The 
Disunionist was blind to the inevitable wreck of all 
that was dear in social and political life if he destroyed 
the Union; the Abolitionist was blind, utterly blind, 
to the immediate and lasting evils of having his way 
with slavery. 

So it went on, till at last, burning with a raging 
fever over the John Brown raid, and lashed by a 
savage press, the South burst into delirium upon the 
election of Lincoln, and madly and vauntingly fired 
on the flag, that rippled out in joyful peace with 
every breeze that blew over Sumter. The arrogant 
leaders of the South meant that shot for a stinging 
challenge, and it was so understood. Every beech 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 17 

and maple and strong-limbed oak in the North, every 
one of her hills and streams, every one of the old fields 
and the liberty-enjoying winds that swept them, said, 
"Accept the challenge! Go, Northerners, go and assert 
your manhood!" But, Southerners! let me tell you 
that as they passed down the walks of the old home 
dooryards and out of the gates, followed by eyes that 
were dimmed with tears, the evils or the abolition 
of slavery did not enter the mind of one in a thou- 
sand. Their country and their honor were at stake, 
not the destruction of slavery. So it was generally, 
far and wide among the great body of the people. 

But with the progress of the war, and under the 
severe defeats of one army after another, as the South, 
out of the depths of her resolution, struck again and 
again, the belief took root that God would not bless 
their arms while slavery had a recognized legal exist- 
ence; and inasmuch as it became obvious that its 
death would be at the same hour as that of the Con- 
federacy, the influence of long-accepted legal defense 
and the golden ties of friendship melted before the 
warmth of moral and patriotic emotion. As a result, 
Lincoln, sensitive in a marvelous degree to what was 
going on deep in the hearts of the common people, 
carved emancipation across the sky of those solemn 
days, and the army that had left home without pro- 
nounced feeling against slavery said, "Amen!" And, 
what is more, "Amen!" said all the civilized world. 

There was also, coincident with this change, which 



18 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

in a sense was political, another in the army, which 
was spiritual. Gradually, for in the divine ordering 
of progress consecrating spirits reveal themselves 
slowly, the consciousness broke at last on the minds 
of officers and men that the dearest hopes of man- 
kind were appealing to them individually in the name 
of duty and honor and all that was sacred, not to 
despair or to yield, come weal, come woe, till the 
country's supremacy was unchallenged, and the way 
cleared for her future. Of nothing am I surer than 
of this visitation and the consequent serious, deep, 
and exalted mood; and I am fain to believe that every 
drop of blood that strained through a heart that lis- 
tened to these spiritual heralds and welcomed the 
vow, was permanently heightened in its color. When 
we realize how meagre had been the advantages 
among the rank and file, and how generally humble 
and obscure their homes, the marvel grows, and our 
hands reach instinctively for garlands for every one 
of them who gave up his life or who bore his part 
manfully. 

Now, a word as to the South. If the disappoint- 
ments of the North over the outcome of three years 
of war had been deep, those of the South had been 
deeper. So sure was she of the poltroonery of the 
North, and the indomitable courage of her own sons, 
that she had expected at the beginning to achieve 
her independence long, long ere the date of the cam- 
paign of May 1, 1864. In fact, thousands and thou- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 19 

sands of her soldiers believed, as they set off in the 
spring of '61 for the Potomac and the Ohio, that the 
southern banks of these beautiful rivers were to be 
the northern boundaries of their proud and victori- 
ous Confederacy; and this before the cotton, then 
ready to branch, should all be picked. But there had 
been Gaines's Mill, Malvern Hill, Antietam, and 
Gettysburg in the east; Shiloh, Missionary Ridge, 
Stone's River, and Vicksburg, in the west. No, they 
did not get back in time to see the cotton picked; 
many of them were never to see it bloom again. Year 
after year they had followed the drum, and were still 
far from home fighting for their wan, unacknowledged 
Confederacy, or sleeping in their graves. 

There is pathos in the contrast, as we think of them 
walking their sentry-posts to and fro, half-fed and 
half-clothed, now under drenching rains, now shiver- 
ing under northern winds, their hearts beating low, 
— so completely had the scene shifted and their 
hopes vanished. And what surprises they had had, 
too! Where was the evidence of that poltroonery 
in their enemies that they were so sure of? Lo, as 
when the heavens at night are troubled, and light- 
ning from some black cloud flashes as from a sud- 
denly opened furnace door, revealing to us across a 
field a wood standing resolute in burnished glory, 
so in the light of their own volleys again and again 
they had seen the North. More than once, also, they 
had witnessed Northern courage, as when the volun- 



20 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

teers came on at Fort Donelson and Fredericksburg, 
leaving the ground they passed over blue with dead. 
No, they had discovered that there was steel and 
iron in the Northern blood when it came to battling 
for their self-respect and a cause which they believed 
to be holy. 

Again, when the Confederacy was launched at 
Montgomery, the South had the keen pleasure of 
seeing it hailed by several of the governments of 
Europe as a coming sister in the family of nations. 
While in buoyant self-confidence she was sure that 
all of them would recognize her sooner or later, yet 
it was her chief expectation and desire that England, 
with whose landed aristocracy the slave-holders had 
made themselves believe there was a natural sym- 
pathy, would be the first to reach out a welcoming 
hand. But days, months, and years had passed, and 
no hand had been extended. On the contrary, either 
through fear or interest, all, including England, had 
yielded to the demands of her despised adversary 
and drawn the mantle of neutrality closely around 
them. Before the first day of May, 1864, she had 
seen through the sarcasm and mockery of their 
greeting smiles. The situation was humiliating to 
the last degree. Moreover, the North had driven 
the Southern armies back from the Potomac and the 
Ohio, it had wrested from them the control of the 
Mississippi Valley, and had overrun and desolated 
a great share of their home-country. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 21 

In addition, the Confederacy's financial system, 
to their distress and mortification, had broken down 
completely, and about all their ports had been sealed 
up, thus cutting them off from both military and 
hospital supplies, and — at the time with which this 
narrative is dealing — humanity's pleading cry from 
their hospitals was heard day and night. They had 
the means neither to succor their own sick and 
wounded, nor to discharge their duties to the pris- 
oners they held. The luxuries, too, once so abundant 
and so hospitably shared, were all gone; rich and 
poor were living from day to day on the plainest 
food. As in the case of the North, the high wave of 
volunteering for service in the field had passed, and 
the conscripting officer had become a visitor at every 
door, no matter how secluded in the woods or remote 
in the mountains the home might be. At his first 
visit he called for the boys of eighteen and the men 
up to forty-five. Later he came again, and demanded 
this time the boy of seventeen and the man of fifty. 
Northern men, who after engagements went over the 
fields where the Southern dead lay, will recall the 
young faces and the venerable gray hairs among the 
fallen. I saw a boy with a sweet face, who could not 
have been over sixteen or seventeen years old, lying 
on his back in a clover-field on the Beverly farm, 
within sight of Spotsylvania. He had just been 
killed. We had had two or three days of heavy rains, 
but that morning it had cleared off smilingly. Only 



22 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

a few drifting white clouds were left, and I am sure 
that they and the door of Heaven opened tenderly 
for his spirit as it mounted from the blooming clover. 
Well, so it was, — the boys and all the old men had 
been gleaned. 

While these bitter experiences and disappoint- 
ments were following one another year after year 
with their deepening gloom, a profound seriousness, 
which is reflected, I think, in the prayers, sermons, 
and diaries of the time, spread over the entire South. 
As a result, the war's passions and the grounds of 
its justification underwent a progressive metamor- 
phosis in the minds and hearts of the Southern people, 
and especially of its armies, not unlike that which 
was going on simultaneously in the North. I some- 
times think that a history of the Rebellion cannot 
be full, just, or truly enlightening, that does not try 
to give us as close and real a view as it can of these 
spiritual changes. In the case of the South, it ac- 
counts, or so it seems to me, for two very impressive 
things, namely, the gallantry with which Lee's army 
battled on, when the chance of success was almost 
hopeless; and the dearness of the memory of the 
Confederacy to all of them, notwithstanding that 
they see now, as we all see, that it was best that it 
should fail. 

,This change in the temper of the South in regard 
to the war and its issues embodied itself finally, as 
in the North, in a spirit of consecration. And to 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 23 

what? Her ports closed, her resources nearly ex- 
hausted, her dwindling armies suffering for food and 
clothing, a wide zone of desolation along her northern 
border, and unfriended by one of all the nations of 
the world, the South in her chagrin, humiliation, and 
despair turned for comfort to mind and heart, as we 
all do at last, invoking the guidance and help of her 
naturally religious better nature. In that solemn 
hour, banishing from her presence the hitherto 
baneful companions Arrogance and Disdain, who 
had caused her to drink of the full stream of trouble, 
she summoned back that master workman. Judg- 
ment, to whom in her delirium she had not listened; 
and behold, there came with him an immortal youth 
whose name is The Future. The former, facing the 
cold realities, pronounced slavery dead, whether the 
Confederacy lived days or years; and Lincoln's 
emancipation proclamation, not the decree of one 
man, but the fiat of the civilized world. 

While Judgment's verdict grew weightier and more 
certain as clearer and clearer became the writing on 
the wall, the immortal youth slowly drew back one 
of his curtains, revealing slavery becoming more and 
more abhorrent as mankind rose in intelligence and 
gentleness. Honor and Manliness, those two high- 
minded brothers in the Southerner's character, 
shrank back at the sight, and declared their unwill- 
ingness to leave as the ultimate verdict of history 
that the Southland, the home of Washington and 



24 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Jefferson, had plunged the country into war for the 
preservation of an institution so repellent. Then up 
spoke that mighty, but not over-scrupulous advocate 
called Reason; yet on this occasion he spoke with 
sincerity unfeigned, saying : — 

"If there are wrongs, there are also rights. Man- 
kind knows that we of to-day are not responsible for 
slavery. It descended to us from our fathers, and 
through generations it has knit itself into our homes, 
our social and our political life. We cannot separate 
ourselves from it at once, if we would, without chaos 
and possibly universal massacre. But if our slaves 
are entitled to freedom, then we are entitled to 
govern ourselves; for that is the first of the heaven- 
born rights in the hands of freemen. In other words, 
we are asking only for our natural rights incorporated 
in the rights of our states, which underlie the founda- 
tions of the Union;" — and in majesty before the 
Southern mind the original sovereignty of the old 
colonies, with Washington and Adams at the head, 
passed in review. " No, whatever may have been our 
delirium at the beginning of the war, we are not fight- 
ing for the defense of property in human beings, but 
for the ineradicable and unconquerable instinct of 
self-government as states; and for our homes." 

And lo! at this point of the argument, the light of 
their burning homes flashed across the scene; for 
hardly a day or night passed that somewhere the 
Southern sky was not lit by them. Whereupon, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 25 

leader and officer and man in the ranks rose as one, 
and facing the immortal Youth, in whose eyes lay 
the question of justification, exclaimed resolutely: 
"On the ground of the right of self-government we 
will stand; and committing our souls to God and our 
memories to those who follow us, let history record 
what it may as to our justification in the years and 
days to come." And thus having answered the ques- 
tion in the eyes of The Future, reverently and calmly, 
they fell on their knees and asked God to bless them. 
There, reader, we have the spring of their fortitude, 
and there we touch the tender chords which keep the 
memory of the Confederacy dear. 

And really, friends, sure of the grounds of their 
construction of the Constitution and in the shadow 
of the clouds that overhung them, addressed by all 
the voices of their and our common nature, and 
moved by those deep currents which flow in every 
heart, could any other possible conclusion be ex- 
pected of a proud people? I think not. 

And now, having set forth, I trust with fidelity, 
I know with charity, the state of affairs North and 
South, as well as I can; and having brought into 
view, as faithfully and vividly as lies in my power, 
the spirits which animated both armies, my narrative 
will go on. 

After Gettysburg, Lee, with what must have been 
a heavy heart, led his sorely wounded army back 



26 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

into Virginia. Then, passing through the upper gaps 
of the Blue Ridge, he took his stand once more behind 
the Rappahannock, near whose banks lower down 
he had played as a boy. Meade followed him, and 
when I was recalled from Gettysburg and rejoined 
his headquarters, I found them near Fayetteville, 
a little hamlet between Bealeton and Warrenton. 
They were pitched on a rise in a heaving old planta- 
tion more or less shadowed by a scattered growth 
of young pines. I was glad to get back. The month 
I had passed at Gettysburg, however, was very 
interesting, and has left many memories, most of 
them dear to me. But after a battle is over and the 
army gone, you see the obverse side of glory so plainly 
that you long to get away from the blood-stained 
fields, and the ever-speaking loneliness of the shallow 
graves, to join your young, light-hearted friends 
around the cheering camp-fires. 

A few days after my return an incident took place 
which I think I should have laughed over whether 
we had gained a victory at Gettysburg or not. The 
tent I occupied was nearly opposite that of Colonel 
Schriver, Inspector-General on the staff. The old 
Colonel was rather spare, stern, and always neatly 
arrayed. About church- time, one very sunshiny 
Sabbath morning, I noticed him walking back and 
forth before his tent in high and brilliantly polished 
cavalry boots, with prayer-book in hand, reading 
his prayers. I thought what a splendid example of a 



THE BATTLE OF TEE WILDERNESS 27 

follower of Jesus! and wished that I had the courage 
to perform my devotions so openly, and acknowledge 
that while I was a soldier of the Army of the Potomac 
I was also a soldier of the Cross. Suddenly I heard 
him call out, "James! James!!" James was his 
strapping young colored boy, and had a very nappy 
head. I looked up. The Colonel had halted, and his 
eyes were glaring across his well-defined nose toward 
James, who, sprawled out and bareheaded, was sun- 
ning himself with several other headquarters darkies 
behind the tent, and had probably gone dead asleep. 
"What are you up to there, you damned black 
rascal ! " roared the Colonel. " Lift those tent-walls ! " 
James was on his feet with startling rapidity, and 
dived for the tent-ropes. Up came the prayer-book, 
out went the Colonel's left foot, and when I saw his 
lips begin moving again reverently, boylike, I tum- 
bled down on my bed and nearly died laughing. 
Even now a smile ripples as I recall the scene. Surely, 
our inconsistencies are a blessing, for they are one 
of the perpetual fountains of amusement. 

The army was occupying the north bank of the 
Rappahannock, from Kelly's Ford, a few miles below 
where the Orange and Alexandria Railroad crosses 
the river, up to Warrenton. It had almost recovered 
from its severe engagement, and was beginning to 
realize the magnitude and significance of the victory 
it had won. That mild and deep joy which a soldier 
always feels when he has met danger and done his 



28 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

duty was in the hearts of all. Camp was bound to 
camp, corps to corps, and oflBcer to private, by the 
ties of a new sense of high fellowship which proved 
to be abiding. This inspiring relation, the most val- 
uable in an army's life, had been smelted, so to 
speak, in those three trying days at Gettysburg when 
cavalry, infantry, and artillery, line-officers, staff- 
officers, and privates in the ranks had witnessed 
each other's steady, heroic conduct. And the result 
of this supreme test of courage was that officers and 
men of the Army of the Potomac felt that respect 
for one another and that pride in one another that 
only a battlefield can create. Whoever will read the 
story of Gettysburg will gain a notion how and why 
these ties were formed. Every living veteran who 
was there will recall Webb, Gushing, Woodruff, 
Haskell, and Hall; the latter carried as mild a face 
as graced the West Point battalion in my day. I saw 
Haskell frequently, and I have no doubt that Duty 
and Courage visit often, and linger fondly, around 
the spot where he fell at Cold Harbor. 

Allow me to add what I know to be true, that no 
matter how high or how low may be an officer's rank, 
no matter where he was educated, what name he 
bears, what blood may be in his veins, or what wealth 
at his command, if, when he is going up under fire, 
mounted or dismounted, a private or non-commis- 
sioned officer near him advances beside him with 
undaunted face, — more than once it was a lad from 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 29 

a farm or humble walk in life, — all the claims of 
rank, wealth, and station are lost in admiration and 
sympathetic comradeship. What is more, he never 
forgets the boy. 

In this connection I trust I may refer with pro- 
priety to what a member of the Supreme Court of 
the United States, a learned judge who carries some 
of the country's best blood, and who spilled some of 
it on several fields, told me one evening, before a 
quietly burning wood-fire, of an impression made 
on him at the Wilderness. In the midst of darkness 
and widespread panic, veteran regiments and bri- 
gades of the Sixth Corps breaking badly, an oflScer 
who had only casually gained his attention called 
out above the din, in a voice of perfect control, 
"Steady, steady — Massachusetts!" The gallant 
regiment steadied, and the incident left, as an endur- 
ing memory, the cool voice of the obscure officer still 
ringing across the vanished years. 

Nay, we think, in fact we know, that the final test 
of the soldier is when the colors move forward or the 
enemy comes on at them. Thank God for all the 
tender and iron-hearted young fellows who have 
stood it! 

From that camp dates my first deep interest in 
the unfortunate Warren, for it was there, while 
messing with him and his fellow engineer-officers on 
the staff, that I saw him day after day at close range. 
The glory of having saved Round Top was beginning 



30 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

to break around him, and shortly after, as a reward, 
Meade assigned him to the command of Hancock's 
corps, Hancock having been wounded at Gettysburg. 
But however keen and full may have been his in- 
ward joy, the joy of having done his duty, and saved 
a glorious field, it altered not his bearing, — which was 
that of the thoughtful, modest scholar rather than 
the soldier, — nor did it kindle any vanity in look 
or speech. It may have accounted, however, for the 
manifestation of what seemed to me a queer sense 
of humor, namely, his laughing and laughing again 
while alone in his tent over a small volume of "lim- 
ericks," the first to appear, as I remember, in this 
country. He would repeat them at almost every 
meal, and, I think, with wonder that they did not 
seem nearly so amusing to others as they did to him. 
I am satisfied that it takes a transverse kind of humor 
to enjoy limericks. 

There was a note of singular attraction in his voice. 
His hair, rather long and carried flat across his well- 
balanced forehead, was as black as I have ever seen. 
His eyes were small and jet black also, one of them 
apparently a bit smaller than the other, giving a 
suggestion of cast in his look. But the striking char- 
acteristic was an habitual and noticeably grave 
expression which harbored in his dusky, sallow face, 
and instead of lighting, deepened as he rose in fame 
and command. Now, as I recall his seriousness and 
almost sympathy-craving look as an instructor at 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 31 

West Point, and think over his beclouded, heart- 
broken end, I never see the name of Five Forks that 
I do not hear Sheridan peremptorily relieving him 
just after the victory was won, and while the smoke 
of battle still hung in the trees. From my youth, I 
have seen Fate's shadow falling across events, and I 
incline to believe that evil fortune took up its habita- 
tion in that deeply sallow, wistful face long before 
he or any one else dreamed of the great Rebellion. 
But, be that as it may, in that sunny field at head- 
quarters of the Army of the Potomac, I gained my 
first boyhood impressions of Warren, whose sad fate 
haunts that army's history. 

And now, on those soft mountain and valley winds 
of memory, which always set in when anything pen- 
sive warms the heart, are borne the notes of the 
bugles sounding taps in the camps around us on those 
long- vanished August nights. Camp after camp takes 
up the call, some near, some far. The last of the clear, 
lamenting tones die away sweetly and plaintively 
in the distance, and back comes the hush of night 
as of old. Again the sentinels are marching their 
beats slowly, most of them thinking of home, now and 
then one, with moistened eyes, of a baby in a cradle. 
Peace to the ashes of Warren, peace to those of the 
sentinels of the Army of the Potomac who walked 
their posts on those gone-by, starry nights. 



II 



After several abortively offensive movements by 
each of the armies during the autumn of 1863, they 
went into winter quarters: Lee, with his armj' well 
in hand, on the south bank of the Rapidan; Meade, 
between the Rapidan and the Rappahannock. The 
former's headquarters were among some pines and 
cedars at the foot of Clarke's Mountain, near Orange 
Court House; the latter's were on a knoll covered 
with tall young pines about a mile and a half north- 
west from Brandy Station. The bulk of the army 
of the Potomac was around Culpeper and Stevens- 
burg; one corps, the Fifth, under Warren, stretched 
northward along the Orange and Alexandria Rail- 
road — at present the Southern — as far as Calver- 
ton; the Sixth was between the railroad and Hazel 
River, a little tributary of the Rappahannock, the 
Second around Stevensburg, the First and Third, 
consolidated before we moved with the other three, 
were about Culpeper. Lee's principal depot for sup- 
plies was at Orange Court House, ours at Brandy, 
where I passed the greater part of the winter in 
charge of the ordnance depot. 

The town, about midway between Culpeper and the 
Rappahannock, then had only three or four houses 
and a one-story, unpainted, lonely sort of a building 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 33 

for receiving freight. A good deal of military history 
of interest is connected with Brandy ; for in the 
rolling fields of the plantations about it, Lee, just 
before setting out for Gettysburg, reviewed Stuart's 
cavalry, ten to twelve thousand strong. The dew was 
still on his great victory at Chancellorsville, won in 
the month before, and the review, according to all 
accounts, was a pageant, drawing people from far and 
near. Ladies, young and old, of Culpeper, Charlottes- 
ville, and more distant points in Virginia, were there, 
and around some of the horses' necks, and hanging 
from the cantles of the saddles, and at the heads of 
the fluttering guidons, were bouquets and bunches 
of wild flowers which they had brought with them. 
They were proud, and justly so, of their sons, bro- 
thers, and lovers; and I really believe that the future 
of the Confederacy never looked so fair to them, or 
to those at its helm as on that June day. 

It will be remembered that in the deep mist of the 
morning following the review our cavalry crossed the 
Rappahannock and gave Stuart desperate battle 
right around Brandy; and it is a matter of history 
that our mounted force had its baptism on that field. 
For two years it had been a negligible quantity, and 
scorned by its enemy ; but from then on to the 
end our cavalry met the enemy sternly, with increas- 
ing bravery and effectiveness. The battle lasted 
nearly all day and was very severe; Buford, Gregg, 
Custer, Merritt, Kilpatrick, and the lamented Davis, 



34 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

were all there. My tent at the station, pitched after 
dark and partly floored, I discovered later was over 
the grave of some one who had fallen in those re- 
peated charges. The other day I wandered over those 
same fields: cattle and sheep were grazing up the 
slopes where the squadrons had marched in the June 
sunshine; killdeers with banded necks and bladed 
wings, turtle-doves, meadow-larks, and serenely 
joyous little sparrows were flying and singing where 
the flags had fluttered and the bugles sounded. j 

In view of the fact that the bulk of the supplies 
to meet the daily wants of the army, then consisting 
of a hundred thousand men, and between forty and 
fifty thousand animals, were sent to Brandy, it is easy 
to imagine that it was a very busy place. Of course 
they all came by rail from Washington and Alex- 
andria. Those for the ordnance, hospital, and cloth- 
ing departments were put under cover in temporary 
buildings, while forage, and unperishable quarter- 
master and commissary stores, were racked up and 
covered by tarpaulins along the track and sidings. 
Some of the piles were immense, and from morning 
till night trains of army wagons were coming and 
going, or stood occupying all the open space around 
the station, waiting for their turn to load. 

In the history of the Fifth Massachusetts is the 
following letter from one of the sergeants of the 
battery. It is dated April 30, 1864. 

"The next battle will be a rouser! The rebels of 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 35 

Lee's army are all ready for us, and are said to be 
ninety thousand. They will give us a tough pull if 
my opinion amounts to anything. 

"To-day I was up to Brandy Station. You can 
form no idea of the bustle and confusion at this 
depot when the army is getting ready to move. It 
looked to me as if a thousand or more wagons were 
waiting to load, and there were immense piles of 
ammunition and all kinds of Ordnance Stores, etc., 
etc., and piles of boxes of hard bread as high as two 
and three-story houses. It reminded me some of a 
wharf in New York with twelve or fifteen ships load- 
ing and unloading." 

The trains were generally in charge of sergeants, 
but were often accompanied by their brigade and 
division officers, so that those of us at the head of 
depots gained a wide acquaintance throughout the 
army. Frequently these officers staid with us for 
dinner; and as my fellow messmate was Dr. J. B. 
Brinton of Philadelphia, in charge of the medical 
supplies, and as surgeons, like certain aspiring young 
lawyers, never cease to talk about their cases, I 
knew a good many surgeons well, and understood 
at least a part of their professional lingo. 

The wagons were generally drawn by six mules 
driven by negroes, who rode the nigh wheeler and 
managed the team by a jerk line to the nigh leader. 
In these days it may seem like a shiftless way to 
drive a team, but it worked well, and possibly be- 



S6 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

cause the darkies and the mules, through some me- 
dium or other, understood each other perfectly; at 
any rate, the drivers talked to their teams as if they 
comprehended every word said to them; and some- 
times it was worth listening to, when the roads were 
bad and some of the wagons ahead of them were stuck 
in the mud. "Calline" (Caroline, the nigh leader), 
giving her an awakening jerk of the line, "stop 
dreamin' with dem y'ears o' yourn." "Jer'miah'* 
(Jeremiah, the off wheeler), "you'll think the insex 
is bit'n you if you don't put dem sholdahs agin dat 
collah." "Dan'l" (Daniel, the wheeler he is on), 
giving him a sharp dig in the ribs with his boot-heels, 
the road getting heavier every minute, "no foolin', 
you old hahdened sinnah ! " " Member, Mrs. N'nias '* 
(Mrs. Ananias, off leader), "if dis yere wagon sticks 
in dat hole ahead o' you, you '11 wish you 're down in 
the dakh grave 'longside dat lie'n husband o' yourn." 
And, on reaching the worst place in the road, yelling 
"Yep! Yah!" loud enough to be heard half-way from 
Washington to Baltimore, every prophet and lady 
mule in the team knew what to expect if the wagon 
stuck, and generally the faithful creatures pulled it 
through. 

In one of the teams of the ammunition-trains that 
came to the depot, there was a little bay mule, the 
leader, that wore a small and sweetly tinkling sheep- 
bell. I stroked her silky nose and neck often and was 
always glad to see her. On the Mine Run campaign. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 37 

one of the abortive campaigns referred to above, in 
December, 1863, while riding from Ely's Ford to 
Meade's headquarters at Robertson's Tavern on the 
Orange and Fredericksburg pike, a road which will 
be mentioned over and over again later, I overtook a 
long train. My progress by it was necessarily slow, 
for it was a pitch-dark night and the road narrow and 
very bad. But when I got near the head of the train 
I heard the little tinkling bell, and soon was along- 
side the faithful creature tugging away to the front. 
It may seem ridiculous, but I felt I had met a friend, 
and rode by her side for quite a while. I do not re- 
member seeing her again till the army was crossing 
the James near Fort Powhatan. 

While I do not wish to encumber the narrative 
with a burden of figures, yet it may interest the 
reader to know that we had in the Army of the 
Potomac, the morning we set off on the great cam- 
paign, 4300 wagons and 835 ambulances. There 
were 34,981 artillery, cavalry, and ambulance horses, 
and 22,528 mules, making an aggregate of 57,509 
animals. The strength of the Army of the Potomac 
was between ninety-nine and one hundred thousand 
men. Burnside, who caught up with us the second 
day of the Wilderness, brought with him about 
twenty thousand more. 

My original telegraph book, now before me, shows 
that I called for and issued between April 4 and May 
2, the day before we moved, in addition to equip- 



38 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

ments and supplies of all kinds for infantry, artillery 
and cavalry, 2,325,000 rounds of musket and pistol 
cartridges as a reserve for what was already on hand. 
When Sheridan returned from his Trevilian raid and 
battle, we then had gone as far on our way toward 
Richmond as the White House, Mrs. Washington's 
attractive old home on the Pamunkey. At the men- 
tion of the memorable place, back comes the odor 
of mint being brewed in a julep, mint gathered in 
the famous war-stricken garden; and back come also 
a squad of dust-covered soldiers removing tenderly 
the bodies of their gallant commanders, Porter and 
Morris, killed at Cold Harbor, from ambulances, 
and bearing them aboard the boat for home. While 
at White House I ordered 88,600 rounds of pistol 
and carbine ammunition for Sheridan's command 
alone. When we reached City Point a few days later 
— the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Cold Harbor lay 
behind us — I called, on one requisition, for 5,863,000 
rounds of infantry and 11,000 rounds of artillery 
ammunition, this 11,000 in addition to a like amount 
received at White House. 

I should be untrue to my memory of Brandy if I 
did not record my high regard for my messmate 
through all that long winter of '63 and '64, Dr. J. 
B. Brinton, an assistant surgeon in the regular army. 
Transparency in minerals is rare, and always carries 
a suggestion of refinement; in the characters of men 
it is supreme, overtopping genius itself. It was Brin- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 39 

ton's steady characteristic, and in all the long pro- 
cession of friends that have blest my way through 
life I recall no one more humanly real, or who had 
more natural sweetness, or who cherished better 
ideals. Moreover, there was a fountain of quiet joy- 
ousness about him, too, and I fondly believe that the 
recording angel has but little in his book against 
either of us for those winter days and nights. For 
I know we passed them without envy, hatred, or 
malice toward any one in the world. 

There was an incident in our life at Brandy, con- 
nected with Gettysburg, which possibly is worth 
relating. Batchelder, whose map of the battlefield 
of Gettysburg is authority, and whom we had fallen 
in with while we were there, asked to join our mess 
at Brandy when he came to the army to verify the 
positions of the various commands. One night, just 
after we had sat down to dinner, he entered quite tired. 
"Well," he announced, taking his place at the table, 
"I have been in the Second Corps to-day, and I believe 
I have discovered how Joshua made the sun stand still. 

I first went to regiment and had the oflScers mark 

on the map the hour of their brigade's position at a 

certain point. Then I went to regiment in the 

same brigade; they declared positively it was one or 
two hours earlier or later than that given by the other. 
So it went on, no two regiments or brigades agreeing, 
and if I hinted that some of them must certainly be 
mistaken, they would set me down by saying, with 



40 THE) BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

severe dignity, *We were there, Batchelder, and we 
ought to know, I guess'; and I made up my mind 
that it would take a day of at least twenty hours 
instead of thirteen at Gettysburg to satisfy their ac- 
counts. So, when Joshua's captains got around him 
after the fight and they began to talk it over, the 
only way under the heavens that he could ever 
harmonize their statements was to make the sun 
stand still and give them all a chance." Any one 
who has ever tried to establish the exact position or 
hour when anything took place in an engagement 
will confirm Batchelder's experience; and possibly, 
if not too orthodox, accept his explanation of Josh- 
ua's feat. 

My duties called me daily to Meade's headquar- 
ters; and when his Chief of Ordnance, John R. Edie of 
Pennsylvania and of the class ahead of mine at West 
Point, was away on leave I took his place there per- 
manently. Meade at this time was in his forty-ninth 
year, and his Gettysburg laurels were green. His face 
was spare and strong, of the Romanish type, its com- 
plexion pallid. His blue eyes were prominent, coldly 
penetrating and underhung by sweeping lobes that 
when cares were great and health not good had a 
rim of purplish hue. His height was well above the 
average, and his mien that of a soldier, a man of 
the world, and a scholarly gentleman. He wore a 
full, but inconspicuous beard, and his originally deep 
chestnut, but now frosted hair, was soft and inclined 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 41 

to wave on good, easy terms with his conspicuous and 
speaking forehead. His manners were native and 
high-bred, but, alas! they reared a barrier around 
him which cut him off from the love of his army, 
and I doubt if it would ever have rallied around 
him had he been relieved and recalled, as it did 
around McClellan. In social hours, when things were 
going well, no man in civil or military life would 
outshine him in genial spirits or contribution of easy 
and thoughtful suggestive speech. 

He had, too, that marvelous instrument, a rich, 
cultivated voice. But nature had not been alto- 
gether partial: she had given him a most irritable 
temper. I have seen him so cross and ugly that no 
one dared to speak to him, — in fact, at such times 
his staff and everybody else at headquarters kept as 
clear of him as possible. As the campaign progressed, 
with its frightful carnage and disappointments, his 
temper grew fiercer — but, save Grant's, everybody's 
got on edge, and it was not to be wondered at. 
Nevertheless, Meade was a fine, cultivated, and gal- 
lant gentleman, and as long as the victory of Gettys- 
burg appeals to the people he will be remembered 
gratefully, and proudly too. In camp his military 
coat, sack in cut, was always open, displaying his 
well-ordered linen, vest, and necktie; when mounted, 
he wore a drooping army hat, yellow gauntlets, and 
rode a bald-faced horse with a fox-walk which kept 
all in a dog-trot to keep up with him, and on more 



42 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

than one occasion some one of the staff was heard 
to say, "Damn that horse of Meade's! I wish he 
would either go faster or slower." 

Hancock, who commanded the Second Corps, was, 
like Hooker, a very handsome, striking-looking man; 
both were of the military type and looked and moved 
grandly. He was symmetrically large, with chest- 
nut hair and rather low forehead, but authority 
was in his open face, which, when times were storm- 
ing, became the mirror of his bold heart; "so that 
in battle," says Walker, his distinguished Inspec- 
tor-General, " where his men could see him, as 
at Williamsburg and Gettysburg, he lifted them 
to the level of his impetuous valor. But when 
he was surrounded by woods and he could not see 
his enemy, as at Ream's Station and the Wilder- 
ness, he was restless and shorn of much of his effec- 
tiveness, very unlike the great commander he was 
as he rode up and down his lines, inspiring them 
with his electrical energy, until severely wounded, 
when Pickett was coming on." When he returned to 
duty I happened to be at Meade's headquarters. 
Some one observed, "There's Hancock," who was 
just dismounting. Meade came hurrying out from his 
quarters, bareheaded and with illuminated face — 
I can hear his rich-toned voice as he said, "I'm glad 
to see you again, Hancock," and grasped the latter's 
outstretched hand with both of his. They had not 
seen each other since the great day. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 43 

Sedgwick, who commanded the Sixth Corps, was 
stocky, had short, curhng chestnut hair, was a bache- 
lor, and spent lots of time playing solitaire. His 
whole manner breathed of gentleness and sweetness, 
his soldiers called him Uncle John, and in his broad 
breast was a boy's heart. I saw him only a few 
hours before it ceased to beat at Spotsylvania. 

Sheridan joined the army just before we moved 
and so I saw much less of him than of any of the 
other corps commanders. He was not of delicate 
fibre. His pictures are excellent, preserving faith- 
fully the animation of his ruddy, square face and 
large, glowing dark eyes. With his close army asso- 
ciates he threw off rank and fame and made many 
a night memorable and loud, and Lee's final over- 
throw is due in great measure to him. He had a 
genius for war and his name will last long. 

Meade's chief of staff was Humphreys, and as so 
much of the success or failure of an army hangs on 
that position, a word about him will not be out of 
place. Moreover, his services were great as a corps 
commander, for after we got in front of Petersburg, 
Hancock, on account of his Gettysburg wound, had 
to give up command, and Meade assigned Hum- 
phreys to succeed him at the head of the famous 
Second Corps. He was a small, bow-legged man, 
with chopped-off, iron gray moustache; and when he 
lifted his army hat you saw a rather low forehead, and 
a shock of iron-gray hair. His blue-gray dauntless 



44 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

eyes threw into his stern face the coldness of ham- 
mered steel. I never saw it lit up with joy but 
once, and that was long after the war, as he met an 
old classmate at West Point on graduation day. 
And yet off duty, by his simple manners, unfailing 
in their courtesy, and his clear, easy, and informing 
talk, he bound friends and strangers to him closely. 
Look at him well: you are gazing at a hero, one 
who has the austere charm of dignity and a well- 
stored mind. Like a knight of old, Humphreys led 
his division against the heights of Fredericksburg; 
and at Gettysburg, on the second day, he was only 
driven from the Emmitsburgh road salient after a 
most desperate defense, probably saving the line. He 
graduated in the class of 1831, Meade in that of 1835. 
And now I come to two men on Meade's staff 
whose names like daisies in a meadow dot the his- 
tory of the Army of the Potomac: Seth Williams, 
who was the Adjutant-General, and General Henry 
J. Hunt, Chief of Artillery. To set them forth so 
that the reader would see them and know them as 
they were, would give me keen pleasure, for there 
never was a sweeter-tempered or kindlier heart than 
Williams's, or a braver one than Hunt's. Williams's 
hair was red, his face full, open and generous, and 
always lit up as if there were a harp playing in his 
breast. At Appomattox, when Lee was going through 
the trying ordeal of surrendering his army, the only 
one of all in the room whom he greeted with anything 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 45 

like cordiality was Williams; for all others his face 
wore its native dignity. Williams was from Maine, 
and had been Lee's adjutant at West Point when 
he was superintendent. 

Hunt, the chief of artillery, whose complexion was 
about the color of an old drum-head, had rather dull 
black eyes, separated by a thin nose. His West Point 
classmates loved him, and called him "Cupid." He 
was lion-hearted, and had won brevet on brevet for 
gallant conduct. At Gettysburg it was Hunt, riding 
through the storm, who brought up the fresh bat- 
teries and put them into action at the critical moment 
of Pickett's charge. Both he and Williams have long 
since made their bed in the grave. 

There is a great temptation to dwell on other mem- 
bers of the staff. On Ingalls, the chief quartermaster, 
a classmate of Grant's: a chunky, oracular-looking 
man who carried sedulously a wisp of long hair up 
over his otherwise balding pate, and who, besides 
being the best quartermaster the war produced, 
could hold his own very well with the best poker 
players in the army or Congress, and in those days 
there were some very good ones in both Senate and 
House. On McParlin, the head of the medical depart- 
ment, Duane, the chief engineer, Michler, Mendell, 
and Theodore Lyman of Boston, of Meade's staff. All 
were my seniors, and their character and services I 
remember with veneration. Especially would I love 
to dwell on those who were about my ovv^n age, not 



46 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

one of us over twenty -five, mere boys as it were: 
Sanders, Bache, Bates, Edie, Cadwalader, Biddle, 
Pease, and handsome George Meade, with whom 
I passed many a pleasant hour. So far as our services 
or personaHties had significance, we were hke the 
httle feathery clouds which sometimes fringe great 
ones as they bear steadily on. And, truly like them, 
we have melted away. The big clouds, on the other 
hand, that we accompanied, at more or less dis- 
tance, with such light hearts. Grant and Meade, are 
lying richly banded low down across the glowing sun- 
set sky of History. When I visited the knoll, a few 
weeks ago, where Meade had his headquarters, and 
where we all passed a happy winter, — it is now 
bare, clothed only in grass, with here and there an 
apple tree or a locust in bloom, that have taken 
the places of the young pines, — I thought of them 
all. It is needless to say that the scene from the 
old camp offered its contrasts. Where desolation 
had brooded, clover was blooming; in the fields 
where the bleaching bones of cattle, horses, and 
mules, had stippled the twilight, the plough was 
upturning the rich red earth with its sweet, fresh 
breath of promise. In short, the choral songs of 
Peace and Home had replaced the dirges which 
underlie the march of glory. 

Grant had his headquarters in the Barbour house 
in Culpeper, now the site of the county jail. At this 
time he was in his forty-second year, having gradu- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 47 

ated at West Point in 1843. I am not vain enough 
to think that anything I may say will add to the 
world's knowledge of him. Several of his personal 
aides, and many admirers, have written books about 
him which like sconces throw their beams on his per- 
sonality and remarkable career, but neither they as 
friends or the predacious critics who have driven their 
beaks fiercely into him, have yet revealed to me the 
source of the fascinating mystery in his greatness. 

WTien he came to the Army of the Potomac — I 
remember the day well — I never was more surprised 
in my life. I had expected to see quite another type 
of man: one of the chieftain-type, surveying the 
world with dominant, inveterate eyes and a certain 
detached military loftiness. But behold, what did 
I see? A medium-sized, mild, unobtrusive, incon- 
spicuously dressed, modest and naturally silent man. 
He had a low, gently vibrant voice and steady, 
thoughtful, softly blue eyes. Not a hint of self-con- 
sciousness, impatience, or restlessness, either of mind 
or body; on the contrary, the centre of a pervasive 
quiet which seemed to be conveyed to every one 
around him — even the orderlies all through the cam- 
paign were obviously at their ease. I often looked 
at him as I might have looked at any mystery, as 
day after day I saw him at his headquarters, es- 
pecially after we had reached City Point, — the 
Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and Cold Harbor, with 
their frightful losses, lying behind us. 



48 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

There was nothing in his manner or his tone or his 
face that indicated that he had ever had anything 
to do with the victories of Fort Donelson, Vicksburg, 
and Missionary Ridge, or that his unfinished task, 
so momentous for the country, troubled him. There 
was certainly something evoking about him. What 
of the earth, earthy, what of exceeding greatness, 
what dim constellation of virtues, were looking out 
of that imperturbable but sadly earnest face? At 
one time, and not long before the period dealt with, 
lean Want had sat at his table. Few tried companions 
frequented his door or cheered his fireside then. The 
war comes on, the spirit of the age, as I believe, in 
the guise of Opportunity knocks at his door, and 
without powerful friends to back him, and with no 
social or political influence to clear the way for him, 
in less than four years, never courting advancement, 
never resenting malevolent criticism or ill treatment, 
tempted always, there he was aloft in the country's 
eye the winner of its telling victories, a Lieutenant- 
General in command of all the armies of the North, 
and with the destiny of the Republic hanging on him! 
Has Genius ever shown her transcendency more mas- 
terfully? 

It is needless for me to add that, marvelous as this 
career had been, the future was to unfold it, rising 
far above the level of wonder. If his antagonist Lee 
be the culmination of the gentleman and soldier of 
our land, and of all lands, Grant made the splendor 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 49 

of his background for him by putting into the hith- 
erto hard face of war two humanizing features, chiv- 
alry's posies so fragrant with glory, magnanimity 
and modesty in the hour of Victory. 

There was one man on Grant's staff whose name 
should not be forgotten ; in fact, it ought to be carved 
on every monument erected to Grant, for it was 
through him. Colonel John F. Rawlins, his chief of 
staff, that Grant's good angel reached him her steady- 
ing and uplifting hand. He was above medium size, 
wore a long black beard, and talked in a loud, em- 
phatic voice. Sincerity and earnestness was the look 
of his face. 

He had on his staff three of my West Point ac- 
quaintances, Comstock, Babcock, and Porter. Com- 
stock had been one of the instructors in mathematics; 
Babcock and Porter had been in the corps with me. 
Captain Hudson of his staff I have good reason for 
remembering; for I was playing "seven-up," with 
him and the late Admiral Clitz of the navy, when 
my ordnance depot at City Point was blown up by a 
torpedo brought down from Richmond, and placed 
by a couple of daring Confederates clothed in our 
uniform on the deck of a barge loaded with artillery 
ammunition. Our innocent game was going on in 
the tent of Captain Mason, who commanded Grant's 
escort. First came the explosion of the depot, that 
shook the earth and was felt for miles; then a solid 
shot tore through the mess chest. I doubt if a game 



50 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

of cards ever ended quicker than that one. We 
fairly flew from the tent, and at once came under 
a shower of bursting shells and falling wreckage. 
One of the barge's old ribs, that must have weighed 
at least a ton, dropped right in front of Clitz. 
Changing his course, he uttered only one remark, the 
first half of the 35th verse of the 11th chapter of the 
Holy Gospel of Saint John. Then, with eyes on the 
ground, and wondering, I suspect, what would come 
next, he passed at great speed right by Grant, who 
in his usually calm voice asked, "Where are you 
going, Clitz?" The admiral hove to, and then 
streaked it for his war vessel, and we never finished 
the game. 

The youngest and nearest my own age on Grant's 
staff was "Billy" Dunn, one of the best and truest 
friends I ever had. He had reddish hair and naturally 
smiling eyes, and died not long after the war. Peace, 
peace be on the spot where the brave and sweet- 
hearted fellow sleeps! 

The looming gravity of the situation North and 
South, which I have tried to depict, left no doubt, I 
think, in the minds of Grant and Lee, that the com- 
ing campaign called on Lee to give Grant a crushing 
defeat at the very outset of the campaign ; or at least 
a blow that would send him reeling back across 
the Rapidan, leaving him stunned and helpless for 
months, as Burnside and Hooker had been left before 
him. For he knew, and every observer of the times 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 51 

knew, that such a defeat would give to the dastard 
Peace Party, on whom the last hope of the Con- 
federacy hung, immediate and bold encouragement 
to declare "the War a failure," and at the coming 
presidential election,Lincoln's administration, pledged 
to its continuance, would be swept away. In that 
case, every leader and private in the Confederate 
Army knew that, once their inwardly despised friends 
got hold of the helm, under the cowardly cloak of 
humanity they would ask for an armistice. That 
granted, the goal would be reached and their weary 
Confederacy, weighted down with slavery, would 
be at rest. The children of the leaders of the Peace 
Party of the North ought to thank God for balking 
their fathers' incipient treason; for where would 
their present pride of country be.^* The last hopes 
then of reaching a harbor called on Lee for a vic- 
tory; our country's destiny on Grant, for the com- 
plete destruction of Lee's army; for until then there 
could be no peace with safety and honor. 

Little would it avail or does it seem necessary for 
me to discuss the military problem that confronted 
these two great Captains. What they might have done 
by throwing their armies this way and that I '11 leave 
to the bass-drum wisdom of theoretical strategists. 
The moves they made were determined primarily, 
as in all campaigns, by the natural features of the 
country, the safety and facility of obtaining supplies, 
and the exigencies of their respective governments. 



52 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

As has been said. Grant's and Lee's armies were 
on the Orange and Alexandria, now the Southern, 
Railroad. Each was about the same distance from 
his capital, whose capture meant in either case the 
end of the war. The Confederacy would have its 
place among nations if Lee took Washington, its 
death beyond resurrection if Grant took Richmond. 
Grant's headquarters at Culpeper were about sixty 
miles southwest from Washington; Lee's at Orange 
Court House, sixteen or eighteen miles farther south, 
were in the vicinity of seventy miles northwest from 
Richmond; in geometrical terms, the armies were 
at the apex of a flat isosceles triangle, its base a line 
running almost due north and south from Washing- 
ton to Richmond. Twenty-odd miles to the west, 
beyond the camps of both armies, rose in matchless 
splendor the azure sky-line of the Blue Ridge, behind 
which lies the Valley of the Shenandoah, Lee's gate- 
way for his two invasions of the North, and availed 
of by him for repeated strategical movements 
whereby he forced the Army of the Potomac to fall 
back for the safety of Washington. We all see now 
that a point convenient to the Baltimore and Ohio 
road at the foot of the valley should have been forti- 
fied, garrisoned, and guarded as tenaciously as W^ash- 
ington itself. 

Down from this beautiful range come the Rappa- 
hannock and the Rapidan, — rivers whose names we 
shall repeat so often, — which, after flowing through 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 53 

many an oak and chestnut wood and by many a 
smiling plantation, meet in the northern belt of the 
Wilderness, about twenty miles as the crow flies east 
of Culpeper, and nearly the same distance west of 
Fredericksburg. These rivers, the Rappahannock 
somewhat the larger, the Rapidan the faster, hold 
rich secrets of the struggle, for many a night the 
armies camped on their banks, and many a time 
crossed and recrossed them, sometimes in victory, 
and after Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville in 
dismal defeat. And now that I speak of them, I 
see them flowing in their willow-fringed channels 
and I hear their low musical tongues once more. 

-The country through which they run, and our corps' 
camps during the winter of 1863-4, can best be seen 
from the top of Mt. Pony, a wooded detached foothill 
of the Blue Ridge, that rises abruptly near Culpeper. 
From its top, looking north, the railroad is seen bear- 
ing on from the Rappahannock, through an undu- 
lating farming section, that is green and lovely: first 
past Elkwood, then Brandy, and by one plantation 
after another, on into the old and attractive town of 
Culpeper. Somewhat to the northeast, four or five 
miles away, and about equidistant from Brandy and 
Culpeper, is a hamlet of a half-dozen age-worn houses 
called Stevensburg, sitting at the foot of a bare hill 
that looks like a giant asleep. It is Cole's or Lone 
Tree Hill, so called from a single tall primeval tree that 
spread its leafless limbs against the winter's morning 



54 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and evening skies. On and around this hill were the 
camps of Hancock. A short while before we moved, 
Sheridan assembled the second and third divisions 
of his cavalry near Stevensburg. Custer had his 
headquarters in the Barbour House, and Wilson at 
the old Grayson Manor, known as Salubria, where 
Jefferson on many an occasion was a guest and where 
Lady Spottswood is buried. Stevensburg, like so 
many of the old dreaming country towns of Virginia, 
has proud memories of distinguished sons. 

From the northwest comes into the little village 
the road from Brandy, and from the west that from 
Culpeper; both are mighty pleasant ones to follow 
in May, when the rolling fields on either hand are 
dotted with herds of grazing steers and the meadow- 
larks are piping their clear, high, skyey notes. When 
we set off for the Wilderness, Meade and his staff, 
followed by the Sixth Corps, came down the one from 
Brandy; Grant and his staff, followed by Warren 
with the Fifth Corps, on that from Culpeper. At the 
village these roads enter the main one that was built 
in Washington's boyhood to connect Stevensburg 
with Fredericksburg. This old highway is narrow, 
and its course from Stevensburg is almost due east, 
sometimes skirting lonely clearings but warping its 
way most of the time through sombre woods, woods 
with a natural deep silence, but flaming here and 
there with clumps of azaleas in their season. At Ely's 
Ford it crosses the Rapidan, which three or four 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 55 

miles farther on falls into the Rappahannock. At 
Sheppard's Grove, midway between Stevensburg and 
Ely's Ford, a road branches off to Germanna Ford on 
the Rapidan. 

Alone in the woods along this road, and standing 
close by it, is a little frame house painted white. 
In its narrow dooryard and under each window to 
the right and left of the door is a yellow rose-bush, 
and on passing it lately, attracted by the beautiful 
roses then in full bloom and the open door, I ven- 
tured to stop and make a call. I discovered that a 
pensioner, one of our old cavalry soldiers, lived there. 
He was not at home, but his wife, a frank, naturally 
pleasant gray-haired woman, seated in her rocking- 
chair, told me that she was born near by, her people 
rankly Southern, and that she fell in love with her 
Yankee husband while he was a sentinel at her 
father's house. After the war — and she remembered 
the volleys in the Wilderness well — her lover came 
back, they were married, bought the little farm, built 
the house, and transplanted the roses from the old 
home : and as I rode away I thought of the red rose 
of Lancaster and the white rose of York. 

About a mile and a half beyond their little clear- 
ing is Germanna Ford on the Rapidan. From there 
runs a road to Stevensburg that crosses on its zigzag 
way a pretty brook and passes through the famous 
Willis plantation. All the roads that I have men- 
tioned, and over which we moved, are intersected by 



56 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

many country roads that are but little more than 
tracks through the woods and fields. 

There are two streams flowing through the land- 
scape that spreads from Mt. Pony, which I should 
like to mention, for I am indebted to them for many 
a pleasant murmur, and because their mingled 
waters, pouring over the dam at Paoli Mills, now 
known as Stone's, told me where I was in the still 
hours of the night, when misled by a guide while 
carrying Grant's first despatches from the Wilder- 
ness. They are Jonas and Mountain runs. The 
former, much the smaller, rises in the fields beyond 
Brandy, the latter among the foothills of the Blue 
Ridge. They meet near Lone Tree Hill, and Moun- 
tain Run winds on northeastwardly to the Rappa- 
hannock, its course through stretches of oak, pine, 
and cedar forest, where wild turkeys breed and red- 
birds sing. When I was down there the other day, 
the miller at Clarico's Mill, three or four miles above 
Stone's, told me that a tame turkey, perfectly white, 
had joined a flock of wild ones and roamed the neigh- 
boring woods with them, — which suggests that our 
natures, like theirs, perhaps, are not changed by the 
feathers we wear. 

Finally, before leaving Mt. Pony there is one 
more feature to which I wish to call attention. To 
the south, after traversing a gently sloping country 
sprinkled with farms and woods, the fences between 
the fields pomponed by small dark green cedars, the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 57 

eye catches the top of a blue veiled peak. It is Clarke's 
Mountain, beyond the Rapidan, and was Lee's signal 
station. But the particular feature to which I wish 
to direct the reader's eye lies east of Clarke's Moun- 
tain, a vast expanse of forest green, in spots almost 
black, and reaching clear to the distant circling hori- 
zon. Gaze at it long and well, for that is the Wilder- 
ness, and when I saw it last from the top of the moun- 
tain great white clouds were slowly floating over it. 

In its wooded depths three desperate engagements 
were fought between the Army of the Potomac and 
the Army of Northern Virginia, — Chancellorsville, 
Wilderness, and Spotsylvania, — in which, first and 
last, over sixty thousand men, whose average age 
did not exceed twenty-two years, were killed and 
wounded. A circle described from Piney Branch 
Church on the Catharpin road with a radius of five 
miles will take in all these fields. 

What is known as the Wilderness begins near 
Orange Court House on the west and extends al- 
most to Fredericksburg, twenty-five or thirty miles 
to the east. Its northern bounds are the Rapidan 
and the Rappahannock, and, owing to their winding 
channels, its width is somewhat irregular. At Spot- 
sylvania, its extreme southern limit, it is some ten 
miles wide. There, as along most of its southern 
border, it gives way to a comparatively open country. 

This theatre of bloody conflicts is a vast sea, so to 
speak, of dense forest — a second growth more than 



58 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

a century old. It is made up chiefly of scrubby, 
stubborn oaks, and low-limbed, disordered, haggard 
pines, — for the soil is cold and thin, — with here 
and there scattering clumps of alien cedars. Some of 
the oaks are large enough to cut tw^o railroad ties, 
and every once in a while you come across an acre or 
tw^o of pines some ten to twelve inches in diameter, 
tall and tapering, true to the soaring propensities of 
their kind. But generally, the trees are noticeably 
stunted, and so close together, and their lower limbs 
so intermingled with a thick underbrush, that it is very 
difficult indeed to make one's way through them. 

The southern half of this lonely region may be 
designated as low or gently rolling; but the northern 
half, along the rivers, is marked by irregularly swell- 
ing ridges. Where the battle was fought, which is 
at about the heart of the Wilderness, and especially 
on Warren's front, the surface of the ground resem- 
bles a choppy sea more than anything else. There, 
like waves, it will heave, sometimes gradually and 
sometimes briskly, into ridges that all at once will 
drop and break in several directions. Soon recover- 
ing itself, off it will go again, smoothly ascending 
or descending for a while, then suddenly pile up and 
repeat what it did before, namely, fall into narrow 
swales and shallow swamps where willows and alders 
of one kind and another congregate, all tied together 
more or less irrevocably by a round, bright-green, 
bamboo-like vine. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 59 

There is something about the scrawny, moss- 
tagged pines, the garroted alders, and hoary willows, 
that gives a very sad look to these wet thickets; 
and yet, for a few weeks in May and June, from them 
a swamp honeysuckle, and now and then a wild rose, 
will greet you joyously. As might be expected where 
the trees stand so thickly as they do in the Wilderness, 
a large number are dead. Here and there a good- 
sized oak has been thrown down by a storm, smashing 
everything in its way and pulling up with its roots 
a shock of reddish-gray earth, making a bowl-shaped 
pool on whose banks the little tree-frogs pipe the 
solitude. Others in falling have been caught in the 
arms of their living competitors and rest there with 
their limbs bleaching, and now and then is one stand- 
ing upright, alone, with lightning-scored trunk and 
bare, pronged limbs, dead, dead among the living 
green. The woods everywhere abound in tall huckle- 
berry bushes, from whose depending limbs hang 
racemes of modest, white, bell-shaped flowers. 

As in all the woods of Virginia, there are many 
dogwoods scattered about. Both they and the huckle- 
berries were in full bloom when the battle was going 
on, the dogwoods, with outspread, shelving branches, 
appearing at times through the billowing smoke like 
shrouded figures. I wonder how many glazing eyes 
looked up into them and the blooming bushes and 
caught fair visions! 

Running through the Wilderness its entire length 



60 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

is what is known as the Fredericksburg and Orange 
Court-House Turnpike, a famous post road in the 
old stage days. Leaving Fredericksburg, it bears 
almost due west till it reaches the heart of the Wil- 
derness; there it crosses Wilderness Run, and then, 
diverting its course slightly to the south of west, 
aims straight for Orange Court House, some eighteen 
miles away. At the time of the war the stage-day 
glory of the road and its old taverns, Dowdall's at 
Chancellors ville, the Wilderness overlooking the run 
of the same name, Robertson's at Locust Grove, was 
all gone; most of the stables and some of the houses 
were mere ruins, and the road-bed itself lapsed into 
that of a common earth road. When the system of 
plank roads came into vogue, about 1845, one 
was built a few miles south of, but more or less 
paralleling, the Turnpike. It is known as the Orange 
and Fredericksburg Plank road, and at the time of 
the battle was in about the same forlorn state as its 
old rival, the Pike. If the reader has interest enough 
in the narrative to consult a map, he will see the 
relation of these roads to each other at the battle- 
field, and will be able to locate three other roads, 
namely the Brock, Germanna Ford and the Flat Run 
roads, also two runs. Wilderness and Caton's, and 
the Lacy farm. These are the natural features in the 
richly crimsoned damask, so to speak, of the battle 
of the Wilderness. 
V The Lacy farm is a part of a once large domain 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 61 

known as Elkwood, and has what in its day was a 
stately homestead. Its fields, leaning against a ridge, 
all face the morning sun. The two runs. Wilderness 
and Caton's, may well be called Warrior Runs, for 
at their cradles and along their voiceless banks more 
men lost their lives, and more blood mingled with 
the leaves that fall around them, than along any 
two runs in our country, I believe. Caton's is much 
the smaller and heads among the swales, in the angle 
between the Germanna Road and the Pike. It loiters 
down through the woods with many feathery branches 
till it meets the Germanna Ford road, and then runs 
alongside of it to within a few rods of the Pike, when 
it strikes across and falls into Wilderness Run ; some- 
time before they part, the road and the cowslip- 
gilded stream are in a narrow crease between two 
ridges. Wilderness Run drains all the trapezoid be- 
tween the Pike, the Plank and the Brock roads, or, 
in other words, the battlefield. After leaving its 
cradle, around which so much youthful blood was 
shed, it flows noiselessly under willows and alders, 
gleaming in the sunlight and moonlight past the Lacy 
house, on to the Rapidan. 

The clearings throughout the Wilderness, save the 
Lacy farm and the openings about Chancellorsville 
and Parker's store at the time of the war (and it is 
almost as true now), are few and small. Many of 
them are deserted, and their old fields preempted by 
briars, sassafras, dwarf youn^ pines and broom, be- 



62 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

neath whose dun, lifeless tops the rabbits, and now 
and then a flock of quail, make their winter homes. 
There are several of these little clearings in the 
battlefield, but the lines so ran in reference to them 
that they did not allow the artillery of either army 
to play a part. These lonely places are connected 
with one another and the roads by paths that are 
very dim and very deceitful to a stranger. Their real 
destination is known only to the natives, and the 
lank cattle that roam the woods, getting a blade here 
and a blade there, oftentimes up to their knees in 
the swales and swamps for a tuft. The lonely kling- 
klang-klung of their bells on a May morning is pen- 
sively sweet to hear. 

This whole mystery-wrapped country is a mineral 
region, holding pockets of iron ore and streaked with 
lean insidious veins of gold-bearing quartz. On ac- 
count of these ores Colonel Spottswood, for whom 
the County of Spotsylvania is named, became the 
owner of large tracts of the Wilderness. He uncov- 
ered the ore-beds, built iron furnaces, and converted 
the primeval forest into charcoal to feed them. Some 
of the pits, and many of the wood roads from them 
and the ore-beds to the furnaces, are still traceable. 
All this was at an early day, as far back as the reign 
of King George II; for the colonel speaks of him in 
his deeds as his Sovereign Lord. The present timber 
aspect is due entirely to the iron furnaces and their 
complete destruction of the first noble growth. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 63 

My mind never turns to those long-since cold fur- 
naces that a mantled figure, mysterious but very real, 
does not arise before me, and which, like a portentous 
note, now and again keys the narrative. Lo! there 
it is, its uplifted hand pointing toward a resurrected 
procession of dim faces, and as they move in ghostly 
silence I hear it saying : By the labor of slaves chiefly 
those iron furnaces were reared; it was they who 
mined the ore, cut down the woods, and faithfully 
tended the lonely smouldering pits (in the solemn 
hours of the night, alone in the woods, what a vo- 
cation that was for reflection on the rights and wrongs 
in life, — some of the pits were not far from where 
Stonewall Jackson and Longstreet received those 
fateful volleys from their own men); they who at 
last tapped the stacks of their molten, red metal, 
metal that sooner or later found its way, some into 
the holy uses of bar-iron and utensils, and some, alas! 
into cruel manacles clasping possibly the wrists of 
a Spottswood slave who after long days of enforced 
and unpaid labor had more than once in the dead 
hours of night sat before the pit, his cheek resting 
in his broad hand, looking with gentle eyes plead- 
ingly into the face of his hard fate. 

Who knows what happened there, what heart- 
breaking, due to slavery and to slavery alone, and 
which the W^ilderness was witness to or moved by 
mournings of far distant exiles! Is our fellow mor- 
tal robed in green and called Nature nearer to us than 



64 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

we realize? And was there a Spirit of the Wilderness, 
that, as tears gathered in eyes of fathers and mothers 
over separation from children and home, recorded an 
oath to avenge the wrong? Else why did the Wilder- 
ness strike twice at the Confederacy in its moments 
of victory? Who knows! 



m 



I AM free to confess that the strategy, grand tactics, 
and military movements of the Civil War, stirring 
as they were, are not the features which engage my 
deepest interest, but rather the spirit which ani- 
mated the armies of North and South. That, that is 
what I see. And while my mind's eye is gazing at 
it with emotion, on my ear fall the sounds of ring- 
ing trowels in the hands of workmen rearing a new 
wing to the old battlemented Palace of History, an 
addition not to house the tale of soldiers engaged, 
soldiers killed and wounded, or to preserve the records 
of the charge of this regiment upon that, or the 
slaughter of one division by another. No, no, not 
the multitude of dead, or the pictures of their glaz- 
ing eyes and pleading, bloodless hands, shall engage 
the pen that fills the records of that new wing. We 
do not know what the genius of history will treasure 
there, yet we know that on its hearth a fire will burn 
whose flames will be the symbol of the heroic pur- 
pose and spirit that beat in the hearts of the pale, 
handsome youths who strewed our fields. And where 
the beams from those flames strike against the walls, 
new ideals will appear, and up in the twilight of 
the arches will be faintly heard an anthem, an an- 
them of joy that new levels have been reached by 



66 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

mankind in gentleness and in love of what is pure 
and merciful. Wars that will not add material for 
this extension of the old Palace ought never to be 
fought. 

So then, before the movements begin and our 
blood mounts, let us in peaceful, thoughtful mood 
take a view of our enemies, not of their numbers or 
position, but fix our attention rather on Lee's char- 
acter and the spirit of his army, two ethereal but 
immortal elements. True, what we are gazing upon 
is not so clearly defined as the Army of Northern 
Virginia in camp on the banks of the Rapidan, but 
the everlasting things that appeal to us are never 
quite distinct; and yet how real they are and how 
they long for expression in Art, Worship, Charity, 
Honor, and high chivalric deeds. 

But be all this as it may, what was it that so ani- 
mated Lee's army that, although only about one-half 
as strong in numbers as we were, they came near 
overthrowing us in the Wilderness, and held their 
lines at Spotsylvania, although we broke them sev- 
eral times.'* In all seriousness, what sustained their 
fortitude as they battled on, month after month, 
through that summer, showing the same courage day 
after day, till the times and seasons of the Confeder- 
acy were fulfilled.? 

Well, to answer this, I know no better way than 
to propose a visit to the Army of Northern Virginia, 
say on the night of January 18, 1864. But before 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 67 

setting off on our quest, let us recall that, through 
either exhaustion, mismanagement, or unavoidable 
necessity, supplies for man and beast were, and had 
been, so meagre that there was actual suffering, and 
not forget that it was an unusually severe winter. 
The snow from time to time was four and six inches 
deep, and again and again it was bitter cold. We do 
not know what the weather was on that particular 
night of January 18, but in the light of the following 
letter to the Quartermaster-General of the Confed- 
eracy, does it seem unfair to assume that snow cov- 
ered the ground, and that the wind was blowing 
fiercely.'^ Or does it seem unfair to fancy that Lee, 
on hearing it howl through the cedars and pines near 
his headquarters, thought of his poorly clad, half-fed 
pickets shuddering at their lonely posts along the 
Rapidan, and took his pen and wrote to the Confed- 
erate Quartermaster-General? 

Headquarters Army of Northern Virginia, Jay 18th, 1864. 

General : — The want of shoes and blankets in 
this army continues to cause much suffering and to 
impair its eflSciency. In one regiment I am informed 
that there are only fifty men with serviceable shoes, 
and a brigade that recently went on picket was com- 
pelled to leave several hundred men in camp who were 
unable to bear the exposure of duty, being destitute 
of shoes and blankets. 

Lee's correspondence seems to show that this state 



68 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

of affairs continued, and that repeated pleas were 
made both for food and for clothing. Whatsoever 
may have been the response to them throughout the 
winter, those who saw the contents of the haversacks 
taken from the dead or wounded in the Wilderness 
will remember that they contained only a few pieces 
of corn-bread and slices of inferior bacon or salt pork. 
Well, in this want do you find any explanation of 
Southern fortitude .^^ No, but it helps us to appreciate 
it truly. 

With this prelude, let us go on with our visit. 
And as we breast the fierce wind, and tramp on 
through the snow from camp to camp, what is it that 
we hear from those houses built of logs or slabs? Lo, 
men are preaching and praying earnestly; for during 
those bleak winter nights, so have the chaplains 
recorded, a great revival was going on; in every 
brigade of the sixty odd thousand men, the veterans 
of Gaines's Mill, Fredericksburg, and Gettysburg 
were on their knees asking God to forgive their sins, 
to bless their far-away homes and beloved Southland. 
One of the officers of a battery tells us in its history 
that right after retreat they always met for prayer 
and song, and that when the order came to march 
for the Wilderness, while the teams stood ready to 
move, they held the battery long enough to observe 
their custom of worship. 

In those sacred hours when the soldiers of North- 
ern Virginia were supplicating their Creator through 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 69 

his Son to forgive them all their sins, and imploring 
his hand to guide them on in the paths of righteous- 
ness, I think we find at least profoundly suggestive 
material for the answer to the question: Whence 
came the spirit that animated and sustained their 
fortitude through those eleven months of battle? 
The sense of peace with God is as much a reality as 
the phenomenon of dawn or the Northern Lights. 
Moreover, hear what Carlyle says about an idea: 
"Every society, every polity, has a spiritual prin- 
ciple, the embodiment of an idea. This idea, be it 
devotion to a man or class of men, to a creed, to an 
institution, or even, as in more ancient times, to a 
piece of land, is ever a true loyalty; has in it some- 
thing of a religious, paramount, quite infinite char- 
acter; it is properly the soul of the state, its life; 
mysterious as other forms of life, and, like those, 
working secretly, and in a depth beyond that of 
consciousness." 

Do not the losses and sufferings of the Southern 
armies and people tell us that there was an idea, some- 
thing of a religious, paramount, quite infinite char- 
acter, possessing the South.'' If they do not, go stand 
among the graves in the Confederate cemetery at 
Spotsylvania, and you certainly will hear from the 
tufted grass that a principle was embodied in an idea. 
! In seeking for the answer to our question there is 
one thing more to be mentioned, — the strength that 
came to the Army of Northern Virginia through the 



70 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

personality and character of Lee; a strength so 
spiritual and vital that, although he and most of his 
army are in their graves, it still lives, preserving and 
consecrating the memories of the Confederacy. I 
sincerely believe that with him out of the Rebellion, 
so-called, its star that hangs detached but glowing 
softly over those bygone days would long since have 
set. 

Two forces contributed to his ascendency, one 
fortuitous, of the earth earthy, the other fundamental 
and celestial, that of ideals. By birth he belonged 
to one of Virginia's noted families and by marriage 
he was connected with Washington, Mrs. Lee being 
the granddaughter of Mrs. Washington. Thus he 
had the advantage of the regard which prevailed 
throughout the South for distinguished ancestry 
supported by wealth, character, and attainments. 

Furthermore, nature in one of her radiant moods 
had made him the balanced sum in manners and looks 
of that tradition of the well-bred and aristocratic 
gentleman transmitted and engrafted at an early 
age through the Cavaliers into Virginia life. More- 
over, she had been generous with her intellectual 
gifts, bestowing abilities upon him of the very high- 
est order. 

But for his military prowess he had something 
vastly more efficacious than ancestry or filling the 
mould of persistent traditions. He had the generative 
quality of simple, effective greatness; whereby his 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 71 

serenely lofty character and dauntless courage were 
reactive, reaching every private soldier, and making 
him unconsciously braver and better as a man. So 
it is easy to see how the South's ideal of the soldier, 
the Christian, and the gentleman unfolded, and was 
realized in him as the war went on. His army was 
made up chiefly of men of low estate, but the truth 
is that it takes the poor to see ideals. 

Taking into account, then, these mysterious yet 
real forces, religion, martial skill, and exalted char- 
acter, we have all the elements, I think, for a com- 
plete answer to the question we have raised. But 
now, let the following extracts from Lee's letters 
leave their due impression of what kind of a man he 
was at heart; for it is by these inner depths of our 
nature that we stand or fall, whether we were born, 
as he was, in the same room of the palatial mansion 
of Stratford where two signers of the Declaration of 
Independence were born, or as Lincoln, in a log cabin 
in Kentucky. The first was written to his son Custis 
on the 11th of January, 1863, just about a year be- 
fore our fancied visit to his camp : — 

Camp, 11th January, 1863. 

I hope we will be able to do something for the 
servants. I executed a deed of manumission, em- 
bracing all the names sent me by your mother, and 
some that I recollected, but as I had nothing to refer 
to but my memory I fear many are omitted. It was 



72 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

my desire to manumit all the people of your grand- 
father, whether present on the several estates or not. 

Later, he sent the following : — 

I have written to him [a Mr. Crockford] to request 
that Harrison [one of the slaves] be sent to Mr. 
Eacho. Will you have his free papers given him? I 
see that the Va. Central R. R. is offering $40 a month 
and board. I would recommend he engage with 
them, or on some other work at once. ... As re- 
gards Leanthe and Jim, I presume they had better 
remain with Mrs. D. this year, and at the end of it 
devote their earnings to their own benefit. But what 
can be done with poor little Jim? It would be cruel 
to turn him out on the world. He could not take care 
of himself. He had better be bound out to some one 
until he can be got to his grandfather's. His father is 
unknown, and his mother dead or in unknown parts. 

In a letter to his son, W. H. F. Lee, who had just 
been released from captivity, and whose wife Char- 
lotte had died : — 

God knows how I loved your dear, dear wife, how 
sweet her memory is to me. My grief could not be 
greater if you had been taken from me; and how I 
mourn her loss! You were both equally dear to me. 
My heart is too full to speak on this subject, nor can 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 73 

I write. But my grief is for ourselves. She is brighter 
and happier than ever, — safe from all evil and await- 
ing us in her heavenly abode. May God in His mercy 
enable us to join her in eternal praise to our Lord and 
Saviour. Let us humbly bow ourselves before Him, 
and offer perpetual prayer for pardon and forgive- 
ness. But we cannot indulge in grief, however mourn- 
fully pleasing. Our country demands all of our 
strength, all our energies. ... If victorious, we 
have everything to hope for in the future. If de- 
feated, nothing will be left us to live for. This week 
will in all probability bring us work, and we must 
strike fast and strong. My whole trust is in God, and 
I am ready for whatever He may ordain. May He 
guide, guard, and strengthen us is my constant prayer. 

Your devoted father, 

R. E. Lee. 

In the foregoing reference to Lee, and to the spirit 
of his army, I trust there is some food for reflection, 
and somewhat that is informing. For I cannot make 
myself believe that a true history of the war can be 
written, fair to the South and fair to the North, that 
does not try at least to make these spiritual forces 
real. Surely due measure cannot be given to the gal- 
lantry of the soldiers of the North, who won victory 
for their country at last, if we do not realize what 
they had to overcome in the almost matchless cour- 
age of their adversaries. 



74 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

But let no one be deceived, — Lee's soldiers were 
not all saints, nor were ours. In his, as in all armies, 
there were wretches guilty of most brutal conduct, — 
wretches who habitually rifled the dead and wounded, 
— sometimes under desultory firing, as when our 
lines after assaults were close, — crouching and 
sneaking in the darkness, from one dead body to 
another, thrusting their ogreish hands quickly and 
ruthlessly into pockets, fumbling unbeating breasts 
for money and watches, and their prowling fingers 
groping their way expectantly along the pale, dead 
ones for rings. Thank God! the great mass of the 
armies. North and South, respected the dead, and 
turned with aversion from those ghoulish monsters, 
the barbarous and shameful outcome of bitter and 
prolonged war. But there are vermin that breed in 
the darkness of the cellar walls of cathedrals and 
lonely country churches; and yet a holy spirit breathes 
around their consecrated altars, and in the voices 
of the bells and the tops of the spires catch the 
first gleam of dawn. So, so it is, and so, so it was with 
both armies that went into the Wilderness. 



IV 



Everything being ready, Grant, on Monday, May 2, 
directed Meade to put the army in motion at mid- 
night of the following day for the lower fords of the 
Rapidan. Grant at the same time notified Burnside, 
then along the railroad north of the Rappahannock, 
to be ready on the 4th to start at a moment's notice 
for Germanna Ford. The orders to carry this into 
effect were written by Humphreys, Meade's Chief of 
Staff, and were sent to the corps commanders the 
same day, who at once, in compliance with them, 
placed guards around all the occupied houses on or 
in the vicinity of their line of march, to prevent in- 
formation being carried to the enemy that the army 
was moving. 

Early on Tuesday morning the depots at Brandy 
began to ship back to Washington. It was a very 
busy day for me and for every one else in charge of 
stores. Trains were backing in to be loaded with 
surplus stores; fresh troops, infantry and cavalry, 
were arriving and had to be supplied at once, whole 
regiments in some cases, with arms and equipments. 
Teams stood, waiting, the drivers clamorous for their 
turn to load with ammunition or delaj^ed supplies; 
others under the crack of their drivers' whips, quickly 
taking their chance to unload condemned stores, and 

75 



76 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

all more or less impatient because they could not be 
served immediately, so as to get back to their com- 
mands who were preparing to move. 

If, in the midst of the hurly-burly, you had gone 
out where the condemned stores were received, I 
believe that you would have seen and heard much to 
amuse you. These stores were usually sent in charge 
of a corporal or sergeant, and were tallied by a 
couple of my men. One of them. Corporal Tessing, 
it would have delighted you to see, he was such a 
typical, grim old regular. His drooping moustache 
and imperial were a rusty sandy, streaked with gray, 
his cheeks furrowed, his bearing and look like a 
frowning statue. The other, Harris, his senior, was 
a mild, quiet, open-eyed, soft-voiced man, with 
modesty and uprightness camped in his face. Well, 
if the stores came from a regiment of cavalry, the 
corporal in charge, booted and spurred, — and such 
an air! — would pick up a few straps, some of them 
not longer than a throat-latch, and possibly having 
attached to one or two of them an old nose-bag, 
would announce brazenly to Tessing or Harris who 
would be tallying, "two bridles, three halters, and 
four nose-bags." If an infantryman, he would throw 
quickly into a pile an old wrinkled cartridge-box, a 
belt or two, and a bayonet-scabbard, and sing out, 
"five sets of infantry equipments complete." If an 
artilleryman, he might point with dignity to a couple 
of pieces of carefully folded, dirt-stained, scarlet 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 77 

blankets, and in a voice of commercial deference 
observe, "three horse-blankets." 

And so it was with everything their commanding 
oflBcers were responsible for: they tried to get receipts 
for what was worn out, what had been lost, and now 
and then for what they had traded off to a farmer or 
sutler. If you could have seen Tessing's face as he 
turned it on some of those volunteer corporals when 
they tried to beat him! He rarely said anything to 
the young rascals; now and then, however, he ad- 
dressed the very unscrupulous in tones, terms, and 
looks that could have left but little doubt as to what 
he thought of them. They never disputed his count, 
but pocketed their receipts, and off they went as 
light-hearted as birds. He and the old sergeant lost 
their lives at the explosion of the depot at City 
Point: the former was literally blown to atoms; how 
and where I found the sergeant is told in "The Spirit 
of Old West Point." Heaven bless their memories, 
and when I reach the other shore no two hands 
shall I take with warmer grasp than the hands of 
these two old soldiers; and, reader, I believe they 
will be glad to take mine, too. 

Count the stores as carefully as they might, there 
was sure to be a generous allowance, so that by the 
time we reached City Point I was responsible for a 
vast amount of stuff that was n't there. But let me 
confide that, when the depot exploded, all those 
absent stores had in some mysterious way gotten 



78 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

to the James; and I am free to say that I loaded them, 
and everything under the heavens that I was charged 
with and short of, on that boat or into the depot- 
buildings, and thereby balanced the books to the 
complete satisfaction of everybody, and I believe 
with the approval of Honor and Justice. 

At last all. was done at Brandy, and a little be- 
fore midnight the train with my ordnance supplies 
on board was under way for Alexandria; its engine, 
old Samson, laboring heavily. I waved good-bye to 
my faithful Regulars and tired colored laborers, and 
turned in. 

That night all the camp-pickets were called in, 
rations and ammunition issued, and perfect silence 
maintained after taps sounded. 

During the afternoon of Tuesday, the Second 
Division of cavalry under Gregg, then at Paoli Mills, 
moved southeastward to the road already described 
connecting Stevensburg and Fredericksburg. He 
struck it at Madden's,and followed it eastward till he 
came to Richardsville, a hamlet about two and a half 
miles from Ely's Ford. There he went into bivouac, 
with orders from Sheridan to keep his command out of 
sight as much as possible. About ten o'clock p. m. a 
canvas pontoon train that had been brought up from 
the Rappahannock drew into his sleeping-camp, 
rested till midnight, and then, preceded by an ad- 
vanced guard, set out for the river. When daylight 
broke they were at the ford, and Gregg, after laying 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 79 

the bridge, one hundred and fifty feet long, moved 
on up with his cavalry to Chancellorsville. 

Meanwhile Hancock at midnight awakened his 
great Second Corps, and at two a. m. set off with it 
from Lone Tree Hill, to follow Gregg. His troops kept 
in the woods and fields till they came to Madden 's, 
so as to leave the road free from Stevensburg to that 
point for Warren. The Madden's referred to is an old 
farmhouse on a gentle knoll, with some corn-cribs, 
log-stables, and huddled fruit trees where chickens 
and turkeys roost, all overlooking a flat field to the 
west that is dotted with blackened stumps of pri- 
meval oaks. It is about a third of the stretch from 
Stevensburg to the river. 

Dawn had broken, and the morning star was 
paling, when the head of the Second Corps reached 
the bluffy bank of the Rapidan at Ely's Ford. There 
it halted for a moment while the wooden pontoon 
bridge that accompanied it was laid. The river 
spanned, the corps filed down and began to cross 
into the Wilderness. Hour after hour this bridge 
pulsed with the tread of Hancock's twenty-seven 
thousand men, veterans of many fields. The swell- 
ing bluffs offer more than one point where in fancy 
the reader might sit alone and overlook the moving 
scene. I wish for his sake that with one stroke of 
this pen, as with a magic wand, I might make it real. 

The river flowing on in sweet peace, glimmering 
with the morning sun; accumulating masses of in- 



80 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

fantry waiting for their turn to join the never- 
ending column in blue blossomed by the colors, 
colors that had flashed their crimson on many a 
field; the bridge rumbling under the heavy wheels of 
the batteries; guns, men, and colors crossing over the 
river to win glory at last for their country. Yes, 
there go the men and the guns against whom Pickett 
made his mighty charge and who hurled him back 
into immortality. There go the men and guns who 
within ten days will carry the Bloody Angle at Spot- 
sylvania. Oh, gallant Second Corps, led on by Webb, 
Birney, and Smyth; Hays, Brooke, and Carroll; Miles, 
Barlow, and Gibbon, my heart beats as I recall your 
deeds of valor! Having crossed, they took the sadly 
quiet country road which makes its way through 
thickety sombre pines and surly oaks and by ragged 
forlorn openings, to their old battlefield of Chan- 
cellorsville, where so many of their comrades were 
sleeping their last long, long sleep. 

Hancock with his staff reached Chancellorsville by 
nine-thirty, his last division about three p. m. Some 
of his troops had marched over twenty-three miles, 
which, inasmuch as they carried three days' rations, 
their muskets, and fifty rounds of ammunition, — 
under a hot sun and with not a leaf stirring, — was 
a hard tramp. On Hancock's arrival, Gregg moved 
on several miles to the south, along the old Furnace 
road which just about a year before Stonewall Jack- 
son had taken to reach the Brock road and from there 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 81 

to strike the right of Hooker's army, posted over the 
identical field where Hancock's corps had now gone 
into bivouac. A reference to this last, fateful move 
of Jackson will be made when we come to place the 
army before the reader's eye as night fell that first 
day, and after all had reached their allotted camps. 
Gregg picketed heavily on the roads coming from the 
direction of Hamilton's Crossing where Sheridan 
under misinformation had located the bulk of the 
Confederate cavalry. 

And now, leaving Hancock at Chancellorsville, 
let us turn to Wilson and Warren; the former com- 
manded Sheridan's Third Cavalry Division. At dark 
on Tuesday, his pontoon train took the road for 
Germanna Ford. When it got within quick reaching 
distance, a half-mile or so, of the river, it halted in 
the thick woods. It was then ten o'clock, a moonless 
but beautiful starlit night. At three o'clock the Third 
Indiana Cavalry, under Chapman, cautiously drew 
near the ford, waited till dawn appeared among the 
trees, then hurried down, forded the river, and brushed 
away the startled Confederate pickets of the First 
North Carolina Cavalry who had their reserve in the 
old, briery field overlooking the ford. 

Meanwhile, the bridge material was brought for- 
ward, and Wilson was on hand with the rest of his 
division, which included Pennington's and Fitzhugh's 
batteries of light artillery. By half-past five — the 
sun rose at 4.49 — two bridges, each two hundred 



82 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and twenty feet long, were thrown, the three thou- 
sand horsemen meanwhile fording the river, and by 
six o'clock all the trains and batteries of the cavalry 
division had crossed, and the head of Warren's Corps, 
which had marched from the vicinity of Culpeper at 
midnight, was drawing near. The infantry in sight, 
Wilson pushed on, up toward the Lacy farm, and the 
Fifth Corps, Ayres with his Regulars in the lead, be- 
gan to cross. The troops, once they gained the bluff, 
threw themselves down and rested by the roadside 
while they ate their breakfast, and then followed 
Wilson up the narrow and deeply over-shadowed 
road. 

The Sixth Corps began its march at four o'clock 
from beyond Brandy for Stevensburg. There it fell 
in behind Warren, and followed him to Germanna 
Ford. Sheridan left the first division of his cavalry, 
under Torbert, to mask the upper fords of the Rapi- 
dan and to look out for the rear of the army as it 
moved away from its winter-quarters. Later he with 
his staff threaded the infantry, and after crossing the 
river at Germanna established his headquarters on 
Wilderness Run, about midway between the ford and 
Chancellorsville. 

Several hours before Warren and Hancock began 
their march the enormous supply-train, in bands of 
from twenty to two hundred wagons, headed east- 
ward on lanes and roads for Richardsville. They 
were rumbling by my tent at Brandy all through the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 83 

night. Grant's, Meade's, and the different corps head- 
quarters-trains, and half of the ammunition and am- 
bulance trains moved with the troops. 

The sun had just cleared the tree- tops when Meade 
with his staff came by, and I mounted my horse, 
saddled and groomed by my colored boy Stephens, 
and joined them. The whole army was now in mo- 
tion, and I cannot convey the beauty and joy of 
the morning. The glad May air was full of spring. 
Dogwoods with their open, enwrapped blossoms, 
that have always seemed to me as though they 
were hearing music somewhere above them in the 
spring skies, violets and azaleas, heavenly pale little 
houstonias, and the richly yellow primroses, which 
here and there beautify the pastures and roadsides 
of this part of old Virginia, were all in bloom, and 
the dew still on them. 

Never, I think, did an army set off on a campaign 
when the fields and the bending morning sky wore 
fresher or happier looks. Our horses felt it all, too, 
and, champing their bits, flecking their breasts at 
times with spattering foam, bore us proudly. When 
we gained the ridge just beyond Stevensburg, which 
commands a wide landscape, an inspiring sight broke 
on our eyes. To be sure, we had been riding by troops 
all the way from Brandy, but now, as far as you could 
see in every direction, corps, divisions, and brigades, 
trains, batteries, and squadrons, were moving on in 
a waving sea of blue ; headquarters and regimental 



84 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

flags were fluttering, the morning sun kissing them 
all, and shimmering gayly from gun-barrels and on 
the loud-speaking brass guns, so loved by the can- 
noneers who marched by their sides. Every once in 
a while a cheer would break, and on would come 
floating the notes of a band. As I recall the scene of 
that old army in motion that morning, its brigade, 
division, and corps, flags, some blue, some white, 
and some with red fields, whipping over them, with 
its background of Pony and Clarke's Mountain, and 
away in the west the Blue Ridge looming with her 
remote charm, a solemn spell comes over my heart, 
and it seems as if, while I look back through the 
Past at the magical pageant, I hear above me the 
notes of slowly passing bells. 

The troops were very light-hearted, almost as 
joyous as schoolboys; and over and over again as we 
rode by them, it was observed by members of the 
staff that they had never seen them so happy and 
buoyant. The drummer-boys, those little rapscal- 
lions, whose faces were the habitual playground of 
mischief and impudence, were striding along, caps 
tilted, and calling for cheers for Grant, or jeering, 
just as the mood took them; but there was illumina- 
tion in every soldier's face. Was it the light from the 
altar of duty that was shining there? No one knows 
save the Keeper of the key of our higher natures, 
who some day will open the doors for us all. 

Soon after we left Stevensburg, to my surprise. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 85 

General Hunt, by whose side I was riding, suggested 
that we take it easy, and let the rest of the staff go 
ahead, for it never was comfortable to keep up with 
that fox- walk of Meade's horse; so we fell to the rear, 
and I really felt proud to have him ask me to ride 
with him, for he was so much older, and held such 
a high place at headquarters and in the army gen- 
erally. We struck across the country, and while 
watering our horses at a run of considerable flow, — 
it rises well up among the oak timber of the old Willis 
plantation, one with the greatest domain of any along 
the Rapidan, — Hunt's eye fell on the violets that 
strewed its banks, and he insisted that we dismount 
and pick some of them. The violets here, and those 
in the Wilderness, are large and beautiful, the two 
upper petals velvety and almost a chestnut brown. 
As we lounged in the refreshing shade, he manifested 
so much unaffected love and sentiment for the wild 
flowers and the quiet of the spot, — the brook was 
murmuring on to the Rapidan near by, — that the 
stern old soldier whom I had known was translated 
into an attractive and really new acquaintance. I 
do not remember ever to have seen him smile, yet I 
never read the story of Pickett's charge, or recall 
him at the Wilderness or Spotsylvania, without 
having that half-hour's rest on the banks of the run 
come back to me. 

The road we were on, the old Stevensburg plank, 
and the one from Madden's which had been taken by 



86 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

two of Warren's divisions, meet at Germanna Ford, 
both roads availing of short narrow ravines to get to 
the water's cheery edge, for the Rapidan here is flow- 
ing right fast. Under the open pines on the bluff we 
found Warren, Meade, and Grant, with their head- 
quarters colors. They and their staffs, spurred and 
in top boots, all fine-looking young fellows, were 
dismounted and standing or lounging around in 
groups. Grant was a couple of hundred yards back 
from the ford, and except Babcock, Comstock, and 
Porter, he and all of his staff were strangers to the 
officers and the rank and file of the army. His head- 
quarters flag was the national colors; Meade's, a 
lilac-colored, swallow-tailed flag having in the field 
a wreath inclosing an eagle in gold; Warren's Fifth 
Corps, a blue swallow-tail, with a Maltese cross in 
a white field. 

Down each of the roads, to the bridges that were 
forty or fifty feet apart, the troops, well closed up, 
were pouring. The batteries, ambulances, and am- 
munition trains followed their respective divisions. 
Of course, in the three years of campaigning many 
officers, of all branches, — and I honestly believe I 
knew every captain and lieutenant in the artillery 
with the army, — had become acquaintances and 
personal friends of my own as well as of members 
of the various staffs assembled; and warm greetings 
were constantly exchanged. Hello, Tom! Hello, 
Bob! Good-morning, Sandy, old fellow, and how 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 87 

did you leave your sweetheart? How are you, 
John, and you, too, Mack, dear old boy! And on 
with their radiant smiles they went. 

If the reader could take his place by my side, on 
the bare knoll that lifts immediately above the ford, 
and we could bring back the scene; the Rapidan 
swinging boldly around a shouldering point of dark- 
ened pines to our right, and on the other side of the 
river the Wilderness reaching back in mysterious 
silence; below us the blue moving column, the tat- 
tered colors fluttering over it in the hands of faithful- 
eyed, open-browed youths, I believe that the reader 
would find an elevated pleasure as his eyes fell on 
the martial scene. And if we could transport our- 
selves to the banks of the James, and should see the 
army as I saw it on that June day, heading on after 
it had fought its way through the Wilderness and 
Spotsylvania and by Cold Harbor, leaving behind 
those young faces whose light now gives such charm 
to the procession all hidden in the grave, I believe 
that both of us would hear, coming down from 
some high ridge in our spiritual nature, the notes of 
a dirge, and our hearts with muffled beats would 
be keeping step as the column moved over the 
James. 

But, thank God! that scene of June is not before 
us now. No, we are on the Rapidan, it is a bright 
May morning, the river is gurgling around the reef 
of black projecting boulders at our feet, and youth's 



88 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

confident torches are lit in our eyes, and here comes 
the small band of Regulars. That solid-looking man, 
with an untended bushy beard, at their head, is 
Ayres. The tall slim man with that air of decision, 
stalking walk, drooping moustache and sunken 
cheeks, who commands the division, is Griffin, one 
of my old West Point instructors. At Gettysburg, 
when Longstreet's men had carried the Peach 
Orchard and broken Sickles's line, and were coming 
on flushed with victory, driving everything before 
them, Griffin's Regulars, then under Sykes and Ayres, 
were called on and went in. They were only 1985 
strong, but they fought their way back, leaving 829 
killed or wounded. Out of the 80 officers in one of 
the small brigades, 40 were among the killed or 
wounded. 

Reader, let me tell you that I never think of the 
Regulars without a feeling of pride and affection for 
them all. For the first real soldier I ever saw, the 
one who conducted me — on reporting at West 
Point, a light-haired, spare, and rather lonely looking 
boy — to the barracks that were to be my home 
for four years, was a Regular; moreover, all of my 
springtime manhood was spent as an officer among 
them, and let me assure you that if in the other world 
there shall be a review of the old Army of the Poto- 
mac, I shall certainly fall in with the Regulars. 

And here, brigaded with them, comes a regiment, 
the One Hundred and Fortieth New York, to which. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 89 

for the sake of a boyhood's friend who fell at their 
head, I wish you would uncover. It is Pat O'Rorke's, 
a cadet and sojourner at West Point with me, to 
whom this pen has referred on another occasion. 
That regiment followed him up the east slope of 
Round Top, and there looking out over the field is 
a monument which tells with pride the sacrifices it 
made. Ryan, "Paddy" Ryan, — so Warren called 
him when some one of the staff asked him who that 
young officer was that had just tipped his cap to 
him smiling as he rode by, — Ryan, a graduate of 
West Point, tawny-haired and soldierly, is leading 
it now. At the close of the next day, the first of the 
Wilderness, of the 529 of the One Hundred and 
Fortieth who went into action up the turnpike, cheer- 
ing, only 264 reported with the colors. The rest were 
in the hospital wounded, or lying dead under the 
stunted, sullen pines; a few were on their way to 
Southern prisons. 

And there, just coming on the upper bridge, is 
another regiment in the same division, the Twentieth 
Maine, a worthy companion of the One Hundred and 
Fortieth and the Regulars. Its record at Round Top, 
where it was on the left of O'Rorke, under Chamber- 
lain, is thrilling; and it was still under that same 
scholar, soldier, and gentleman, a son of Bowdoin, 
at Appomattox, when the overthrown Confederate 
army came marching along, under Gordon, with 
heavy hearts, to stack their arms, and say farewell 



90 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

to their dearly loved colors. Chamberlain ordered 
his line to present arms to their brave foes. Gordon, 
who was at their head, with becoming chivalry 
wheeled his horse, and acknowledged duly the unex- 
pected and touching salute. Yes, the guns you see 
them bearing now were brought to a present, and 
those old battle-torn colors were dipped. It was a 
magnanimous and knightly deed, a fit ending for the 
war, lifting the hour and the occasion into the com- 
pany of those that minstrels have sung. I feel glad 
and proud that I served with an army which had men 
in it with hearts to do deeds like this. The total 
killed and wounded of this regiment in the war was 
528. 

That large man, fifty-four years old, with silvered 
hair and nobly carved features, is Wadsworth who 
has only about forty-eight hours to live, for he was 
killed Friday forenoon, and the writer has every 
reason to believe that he bore the last order Warren 
ever gave him. But before I reached him, his lines 
were broken, and our men were falling back in great 
confusion, and he was lying mortally wounded and 
unconscious within the Confederate lines. His bri- 
gade commanders are Cutler and Rice, the latter 
a Yale man who, when dying a few days after at 
Spotsylvania, asked to be turned with his face to 
the enemy. In W^adsworth's division is the Iron 
Brigade of the West, made up of Seventh and Nine- 
teenth Indiana, Twenty-Fourth Michigan, First 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 91 

New York, Second, Sixth, and Seventh Wisconsin. 
They too were at Gettysburg, — in fact, the fate of 
that day pivoted on their bravery, — and proudly 
may they tread those bridges to-day. 

Those troops just ahead of the battery that is now 
coming on to the lower bridge are the rear of the 
Maryland brigade. Its front is with that head- 
quarters flag you see in the column over the top of 
willows and trees on the other side of the river. It 
is known as the Iron Brigade of Maryland, and is 
made up of the First, Fourth, Seventh, and Eighth 
Maryland. 

If ever you should visit the field of Spotsylvania, 
you will find standing in the Spindle farm, within 
reach of the evening shadows of an old wood, and 
amid tufts of broom-grass, a gray rectangular stone, 
and on one of its faces you will read "Maryland 
Brigade," and on another this legend, a copy of an 
order given by Warren, then in the road about where 
Sedgwick was killed the following morning: *'8th May 
1864. Never mind cannon, never mind bullets, press 
on and clear this road," — meaning the road to 
Spotsylvania, that lies but a mile and a half beyond. 
On the south face is, "Nearest approach on this 
front." 

I saw the troops with my own eyes as they tried 
gallantly to carry out Warren's order, wondering 
at every step they took how much longer they could 
stand it under the withering cross-fire of artillery and 



92 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

musketry; and the whole scene came back to me viv- 
idly as I stood by the stone the other June day. And 
I '11 confess freely, it came back with a sense of pen- 
siveness such as always attends a revisit to one of the 
old fields. I got there about the same hour as that of 
the charge, and the day resembled exactly that of the 
battle, one brimming with glad sunshine; that kind 
of a May morning when new-shorn sheep look so 
white in the fields, the brooks ripple so brightly, 
and joy is in the blooming hawthorn. 

But there, by the stone, all was very still, — silence 
was at its highest pitch. Huge white clouds with 
bulging mountain-tops, pinnacled cliffs, and gray 
ravines were floating lazily in the forenoon sky, and 
across the doming brow of one of them whose shadow 
was dragging slowly down the timbered valley of the 
Po, a buzzard far, far above earth's common sounds, 
was soaring half-careened with bladed wing. There 
were no men or herds in sight, the only moving thing 
was an unexpected roaming wind. Suddenly the 
leaves in the near-by woods fluttered a moment, and 
then the broom-grass around waved silently as the 
wandering wind breathed away. My left hand was 
resting on the stone, and a voice came from it saying, 
as I was about to go to other parts of the field, — to 
where brave, sweet-hearted Sedgwick laid down 
his life and our batteries had stood, — "Stay, stay 
a while ! I stand for the men you saw marching across 
the Rapidan, who after facing the volleys of the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 93 

Wilderness were called upon to move on at last under 
the severe order, 'Never mind cannon, never mind 
bullets, but press on and clear this road.' Here many 
of them fell. Stay a while, I love to feel the warmth of 
a hand of one who, as a boy, served with them. Do not 
go just yet, for, here alone throughout the long days in 
the silence of the dead broom, I am sometimes lonely." 

And so, dear reader, I might call your attention 
to deeds like theirs which have been done by about 
every one of the veteran regiments that cross the 
river this morning, but something tells me that I 
ought to refrain, and proceed with the narrative. 

As soon as the last of his troops were across — it 
was well on toward noon — Warren mounted his 
big, heavy, iron-gray horse and, followed by his staff, 
the writer among them, started up the Germanna 
Ford Road for the Lacy farm and the opening around 
the Wilderness Tavern. Warren's adjutant-general 
was Colonel Fred Locke; his chief surgeon. Dr. 
Milhau, whose assistant was my friend. Colonel 
Charles K. Winne of Albany, New York, — and 
may every day of his declining years be sweet to him. 
Warren's chief personal aide, and one of the very 
best in the army, was Washington Roebling, the 
builder of the Brooklyn Bridge, and a man whose 
fame is wide. Warren's brother Robert, a boy of my 
own age, was also an aide. I find, by referring to my 
book of dispatches, that I sent my camp blankets to 
him at Culpeper the night before we moved. Besides 



94 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

those mentioned there were eight or ten other officers 
connected with the staff; so that, when we were under 
way on the narrow road, followed immediately by 
headquarters guards, couriers, and servants, we made 
quite a cavalcade behind the general. 

After all these years there are only three distinct 
memories left of the march. First, its seeming great 
length, — and yet it was only about four and a half 
miles. But the eye met nothing to distract it; to be 
sure now and then there was a field, and on the right- 
hand side, and not far apart, were two little old 
houses. When passing over the road last May, the 
houses were gone, a superannuated cherry tree was 
trying to bloom, and a feeble old rheumatic apple 
tree had one of its pain-racked, twisted boughs 
decked in pink and white. But the most of the way 
the road's course is through stunted oaks, lean, strug- 
gling bushes, pines with moss on them, obviously 
hopeless of ever seeing better days, the whole scene 
looking at you with unfathomable eyes. Second, the 
road was strewn with overcoats which the men had 
thrown away. The wonder is that they had carried the 
useless burden so far, for the day was very warm, with 
not a breath of air; moreover, they had been march- 
ing since midnight, and were getting tired. The other 
memory is almost too trifling to record, but, as it 
was the only time I burst into a hearty laugh in all 
the campaign, I shall be loyal to it, and give it a 
place alongside of the stern and great events. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 95 

About half-way to the Lacy house we come to Flat 
Run, which steals down out of the woods and heads 
right up where the battle began. Its tributary branches 
are like the veins of a beech-leaf, frequent and almost 
parallel, coming in from both sides, and bordered all 
the way with swamp or thicket. When we reached 
it, and while several of us with rein relaxed were 
letting our horses drink, my friend Winne approached 
on our right hand. The wagons and batteries ahead 
of us had ploughed through, deepening and widen- 
ing the deceitful stream into a mud-hole. W^iune's 
horse, rather thirsty, and undoubtedly looking for- 
ward with pleasant anticipations of poking his nose 
into refreshing water, had barely planted his fore 
feet in it before he turned almost a complete somer- 
sault and landed Winne full length in the water. 
When, to use the language of the New Testament, he 
came up out of the water, his cap had disappeared, 
and he certainly was a sight. Well, heartlessly and 
instantaneously we youngsters broke into howling 
delight. Thereupon Winne's lips opened and his lan- 
guage flowed freely, marked with emphatic use of 
divine and to-hellish terms both for us and his poor 
brute, which was fully as much surprised as any one 
at the quick turn of events. The doctor's address 
soon reduced our loud laughter to suppressed giggles, 
which brightened our way for a good many rods, and 
which still ripple along the beach of those bygone 
years. 



96 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

When GrifBn's division, leading the advance of 
Warren's corps, reached the Pike, it moved out on 
it for a mile or more to the west, the road rising 
steadily, and there in the woods beyond the leaning 
fields of the Lacy farm it went into bivouac. Griffin 
pitched his tent alongside the old road and just at 
the edge of the woods. Little did he or his men 
dream, as they rested after their long march, — how 
sweet the fragrance of the boiling coffee, how soft 
the pine needles under hip and elbow, how refreshing 
every soft breeze on the forehead, how still the woods 
and with what lovely serene delight the sunshine 
sifted down through the intermingled branches of the 
trees ! — yes, little did Griffin or his men dream that 
Early's Confederate division of Ewell's corps would 
go into bivouac along the same road and only three 
miles away. 

Crawford's division of Warren's corps, next in the 
column, on gaining the Pike took the grassy Parker's 
Store Road, which winds up Wilderness Run through 
the Lacy plantation. He halted near the mansion 
and made it his headquarters for the night. The 
house is about a half mile from the Pike, faces the 
east, and has some venerable trees in the door- 
yard. 

Wadsworth, next in line, camped opposite Craw- 
ford on the east side of the run, picketing toward 
Chancellorsville. The regiment sent on this duty 
was the Second Wisconsin, Cutler's brigade, and its 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 97 

adjutant, G. M. Woodward of La Crosse, Wisconsin, 
says that where he estabhshed the Hne of pickets the 
ground here and there blazed with wild azaleas, and 
at first presented no evidence that it had ever been 
the scene of battle; dismounting he soon found scat- 
tered in every direction the debris of war — knap- 
sacks, belts, bayonets, scabbards, etc. Farther on he 
saw what appeared to be a long trench about eight 
feet wide, filled up and mounded, its edges sunken 
and covered with grass, weeds, and wild flowers. 
This picket-line ran undoubtedly through Stonewall 
Jackson's field hospital of just a year before, to 
which he was carried when wounded. 

Robinson, who brought up the rear of the corps, 
camped on the Germanna Road, the middle of his 
division about where Caton's Run comes down 
through the woods from the west. 

Some of the batteries parked on the Lacy farm, 
others with the trains in the fields back of the de- 
serted old Wilderness Tavern. This old stage-house, 
indicated on all the maps and mentioned many times 
in orders and reports, was a two-storied, hewn-log 
house in its day, standing on the north side of the 
Pike, at the top of the ridge about three hundred 
yards east of Wilderness Run. It overlooked all the 
Lacy estate, and had the reader stood in its lonely 
dooryard as the sun was going down and the shadows 
of the woods were reaching into the fields, the men of 
Crawford's and Wadsworth's divisions, all preparing 



98 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

their evening meals, the smoke of their little fires lift- 
ing softly over them, would have been in full view 
below him. From the same point, should some one 
have directed his eye to a banner with a white field 
and a red Maltese cross in the centre, a mile or so 
to the west, at the edge of the woods, it would have 
been Griffin's. 

Warren made his headquarters near the Pike, on 
the bare ridge which separates Wilderness and Ca- 
ton's runs, and about opposite the knoll that Grant 
and Meade occupied during the battle. At supper 
that night he was in fine spirits, cheerier at heart, I 
believe, than ever afterwards, unless it was on the 
field of Five Forks just before he met Sheridan, who, 
in that passionate moment, then and there peremp- 
torily relieved him, just as the veterans of the Fifth 
Corps, whom he had led so often, were cheering him 
over the victory he had helped to win. Sheridan's 
harsh dealing with him, however, was not wholly un- 
studied; for Warren's relations with Grant, which felt 
their first strain in the Wilderness and at Spotsyl- 
vania, had been at the breaking-point, and Sheri- 
dan knew it. Moreover, Grant during the day had 
sent his trusted aide Babcock to him, with authority 
to relieve Warren in case he should not come up to 
the mark. In fact, then, and in extenuation of 
Sheridan's conduct, who knows all that Babcock 
said, or his look and tones .^ But that awful hour 
of storm for Warren has long since drifted by, and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 99 

his saddened mind found the grave's repose. I 
have no doubt, however, that when they finally met 
in the other world, the impulsive Irishman asked 
and received his pardon. 

After supper I filled my pipe and sat alone, on an 
old gray rail-fence near by, till the sun went down 
and evening deepened into a twilight of great peace. 
A brigade camped up the run was singing h^^nns 
and songs that I had heard at home as a boy; and, 
probably with feelings deeper than my own, the 
timber of the Wilderness Hstened also. Slowly out 
of the sky bending kindly over us all, — woods, the 
Lacy fields, the old tavern, and murmuring runs, — 
the light faded softly away and on came night. 

Sedgwick's di\^sions were in bivouac along the 
Germanna Ford Road as far as Flat Run; Getty 
next to Warren, then Wright, in the old Beale plan- 
tation fields; and behind him, just this side of the 
river, Ricketts, who had crossed the Rapidan about 
a quarter of four. 

Sheridan had pitched his headquarters a third of 
a mile or so east of the SLxth Corps, near the work- 
ings of an old gold mine; orderHes, with his cavalry 
corps flag, were stationed on the Germanna Road to 
show the way to his camp. Custer, perhaps the 
lightest-hearted man in the army, with whom as a 
cadet I whiled away many an hour, was back just 
this side of Stevensburg, his brigade guarding the 
rear of the army and especially the trains at Rich- 



100 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

ardsville. Davies, with another brigade of cavalry, 
was at Madden's; in fact, all of Sheridan's first 
division was posted from the Rapidan to the Rap- 
pahannock at eight o'clock that beautiful May 
night. 

Wilson with the Third Division was at Parker's 
store, one brigade picketing up the Plank Road to 
the west and front, the other to the east and south. 
When I was there last May, a couple of apple trees 
were in bloom, and on the roadside I met an old 
Confederate whose tawny beard was streaked with 
frost. "Can you tell me where General Wilson was 
camped?" I asked. He replied, "Stranger, he was 
camped all around over that field and all around 
yonder," waving his hand swecpingly; "but I was 
off with Rosser's cavalry. It is very quiet now, sir." 
And so it was. 

The trains were crossing at Ely's and Culpeper 
Mine fords and going into parks near Chancellors- 
ville. 

Grant and Meade, after crossing the river, estab- 
lished their headquarters near a deserted house whose 
neglected fields overlooked the ford. At 1.15 p. m., 
Hancock and Warren having met with no opposition 
in their advance. Grant telegraphed for Burnside to 
make forced marches until he reached Germanna 
Ford. There is reason to believe, it seems to me, that 
it would have been better had Burnside been brought 
up nearer before the movement began. For, as it 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 101 

was, his men were nearly marched to death to over- 
take us; and as a result, they were altogether too 
fagged out for the work they were called on to do the 
morning of the second day. The same criticism, how- 
ever, can be made on Lee's failure to bring Long- 
street within striking distance. Though, to be sure, 
in his case, he did not know whether Grant would 
cross the Rapidan at the fords above or below him; 
if above, then Longstreet was just where he would 
have needed him. I have always suspected that Lee 
feared a move on that flank more than on his right, 
for there the country was so open that he could not 
conceal the paucity of his numbers, as in the Wilder- 
ness. But, however this may be, while Hancock's, 
Warren's, and Sedgwick's men on our side, and Hill's 
and Ewell's on Lee's, were resting around their 
camp-fires, Burnside's and Longstreet's were still 
plodding away, long after their comrades in the 
Wilderness were asleep. Such, then, were the move- 
ments and the camping-places of the Army of the 
Potomac on the 4th of May. 

Meanwhile the enemy had been moving also. 
Ewell reports that, by order of General Lee, his corps 
and division-commanders met him on Monday, May 
2, at the signal station on Clarke's Mountain, and 
that he then gave it as his opinion that Grant would 
cross below him. It was the last time that Lee and 
his valiant subordinates ever visited that charming 
spot, with its wide, peaceful view. If ever the reader 



102 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

should be in that vicinity, I hope he will not fail to 
go to the top of the mountain. 

At an early hour on Wednesday it had been re- 
ported from various sources to Lee that Grant was 
under way. By eight o'clock this news was fully con- 
firmed and he transmitted it through the proper 
channels to his corps-commanders, with orders to 
get ready to move. Sorrel, Longstreet's adjutant- 
general, at nine o'clock notified General E. P. Alex- 
ander — a soldier and a gentleman whose name will 
last long — as follows: "Many of the enemy's camps 
have disappeared from the front, and large wagon- 
trains are reported moving through Stevensburg. 
The lieutenant-general commanding desires that you 
will keep your artillery in such condition as to enable 
it to move whenever called upon." It was the artil- 
lery that under Alexander tried to shake our lines 
at Gettysburg before Pickett's charge. The same 
despatch was sent to Longstreet's division-command- 
ers. Field and Kershaw. The former was our in- 
structor in cavalry at West Point, and rode at the 
head of the troop that escorted Edward VII, when 
as Prince of Wales he came to West Point in the fall 
of 1860. 

It is reasonably clear that by eleven o'clock at the 
latest Lee was convinced that Wilson's and Gregg's 
crossings of the Rapidan were not the beginning of 
a raid, or a feint to cover an advance up the river, 
but the opening of the campaign. Apparently he 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 103 

seems not to have hesitated, but set his army of 
sixty-odd thousand men in motion for the Wilder- 
ness, taking the precaution to leave Ramseur with 
three brigades at Rapidan station, to meet any pos- 
sible danger behind the mask of our cavalry under 
Custer. Ewell, who commanded his Second Corps, 
consisting of Rodes's, Johnson's, and Early's divi- 
sions, was to draw back from the river to the Pike 
and, once there, to march for Locust Grove, some 
eighteen miles to the eastward and within, as has 
been related, three miles of where Griffin camped. 
His Third Corps, A. P. Hill's, at Orange Court 
House, was to take the Plank Road for Verdierville 
or beyond. It had about twenty-eight miles to go. 

Longstreet at Gordonsville and Mechanicsburg 
was first ordered to follow Hill, but later, at his sug- 
gestion, he took roads south of the Plank leading into 
the Catharpin, which strike the Brock Road, the key 
of the campaign, at Todd's Tavern. From his camp 
to where his men met Hancock the morning of the 
second day, east of Parker's store, was forty-two 
miles. None of Lee's corps got well under way before 
noon; and by that time over half of Hancock's and all 
of Warren's were across the river. It was after dusk 
when Ewell passed through Locust Grove; and the 
bats were wavering through the twilight over the 
heads of Hill's men as they dropped down to rest at 
Verdierville. Longstreet's veterans, those who in the 
previous autumn smashed our lines at Chickamauga 



104 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and who left so many of their dead at Knoxville, 
were still on the march. 

Sometimes, when alone before my wood-fire, my 
mind floating over the fields of this narrative, and 
one after another of its scenes breaking into view, 
I have been conscious of wishing that with you, 
reader, at my side, I could have stood near their line 
of march. I should like to have seen those men, 
— and so would you, — the heroes of the Peach- 
Orchard and Round Top at Gettysburg, as well as 
of Chickamauga. I should like to have seen also the 
North Carolinians of Hill's corps who, with the 
Virginians, made Pickett's charge. But above all I 
should like to have seen the face of the officer who, 
on the succeeding night, hearing the pitiful cries 
for water of our wounded in GriflSn's front, could 
stand it no longer and crawled over the breastworks, 
notwithstanding the persistent fire from our lines, 
made his way to where one of our wounded men lay, 
took his canteen, and, groping to a little branch of 
Wilderness Run, filled it and brought it to his stricken 
enemy and then went back to his own lines. If ever 
the spirit of that Good Samaritan should come to my 
door, he shall have the best chair before my fire; I'll 
lay on another stick of wood and let its beams kiss 
his manly face as we talk over those bygone days. 
Yes, I wish that with a reader who would enjoy such 
a scene I could have stood under a spreading-limbed 
tree on the roadside and seen Field and Kershaw, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 105 

Ewell and Gordon, Heth and Alexander, march on 
their way to the Wilderness. 

Stuart began to draw in his cavalry toward Ver- 
dierville as soon as he knew of our movement. The 
regiments which had wintered in the vicinity of 
Hamilton's Crossing and at Milford on the Freder- 
icksburg and Richmond Railroad directed their 
march by way of Spotsylvania ; Rosser set out from 
Wolf Town in Madison County, passed through 
Orange Court House, and camped beside Hill. Fitz 
Lee came in from the neighborhood of Gordonsville 
and bivouacked on the Catharpin, near enough to go 
to Rosser's aid the next morning. 

Lee encamped in the woods opposite the home 
of Mrs. Rodes, near Verdierville. 

Able critics have blamed him for fighting Grant 
in the Wilderness. They maintain that he might have 
avoided all of his losses there by going at once to 
Spotsylvania, and entrenched, for they assume that 
Grant would have followed the same system of re- 
peated assaults that he did after the Wilderness, and 
that he would have met with severer repulses. It will 
be conceded, knowing Grant as we do, that in all 
probability he would have gone straight at his adver- 
sary, and that no works which Lee could have thrown 
up at Spotsylvania or elsewhere would have daunted 
him: the appalling record of that battle-summer 
would certainly seem to justify such a conclusion. 
And, by the way, one among the reasons which con- 



106 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

tributed to make it so deadly may be found possibly 
in the fact that Grant came to the army with an 
impression that in many of its big engagements under 
McClellan, Pope, Hooker, and Meade, it had not 
been fought to an end. However this may have been, 
long before we got to the James River the grounds 
for a like impression, I think, were gone. At any 
rate, go ask the slopes before the Confederate works 
at Spotsylvania, Cold Harbor, and Petersburg what 
they think about it, — if they even dream that the 
Army of the Potomac was not fought to its limit. 

Perhaps there was a better way than Grant's way 
of handling the gallant old army but I find no fault: 
I am only sorry so much blood had to flow. We 
are in the habit of thinking it was a war between 
North and South; not at all, it was between two 
mutually antagonistic forces vastly older than our 
country — it was the final death grapple on this 
earth of Freedom and Slavery, and the sacrifice of 
sons North and South had to be made, bringing 
many tears. 

In regard to the wisdom of Lee fighting in the 
Wilderness, I think we can be sure of one thing, ^ 
that his decision was not the result of sudden im- 
pulse. For what he should do with his army, little 
as compared with Grant's, when spring should open, 
had no doubt been weighed and re-weighed, as night 
after night he sat before his green-oak fire at the 
foot of Clarke's Mountain. His critics, moreover, will 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 107 

agree that he was too good a tactician not to know 
that, if he should adopt the defensive from the out- 
set and go to Spotsylvania, Grant could flank not 
only that position but any position he might take 
between there and Richmond. Again, those who find 
fault with him for fighting in the Wilderness will 
have to acknowledge, we believe, that he was too 
good a general not to realize that any backward 
steps he might be forced to make, for any reason 
whatsoever, would have a bad effect on the spirit 
of his army. Of course, he knew that sooner or later 
in the campaign he would have to assume the offen- 
sive, and take his chances. It is obvious that in case 
of defeat, the nearer Richmond he should be the 
more serious might be the results: he had had one 
experience of that kind at Malvern Hill, which is 
within ten miles of Richmond, and I am sure he 
never wanted another like it; for all accounts agree, 
and are confirmed by what I have heard from Con- 
federates themselves, that his army and Richmond 
were on the verge of panic. 

In justification of the plan that he followed, where 
is there a field between the Rapidan and Richmond 
on which his sixty-five thousand men could have 
hoped to attack Grant's one hundred and twenty 
thousand under such favorable conditions .f* where his 
numbers would be so magnified in effectiveness, and 
Grant's so neutralized, by the natural difficulties and 
terror of the woods .^ — for dense woods do have a 



108 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

terror. Again, where on the march to Richmond 
would the Army of the Potomac, from the nature of 
the country and the roads, be more embarrassed in 
the use of its vastly superior artillery, or in concen- 
trating its strength, if battle were thrust upon it 
suddenly? 

Save right around Chancellorsville, the region was 
an almost unknown country to our people, while to 
Lee and his men it was comparatively familiar. He 
himself was thoroughly acquainted with its wooded 
character, paths, runs, and roads. Moreover, he 
knew the military advantages they afforded, for he 
had tested them in his campaign against Hooker. 
Taking all this into account, then, it seems to me 
that in planning his campaign to strike at Grant 
just when and where he did, he planned wisely. For 
it presented the one good chance to win a decisive 
victory, which, as I have said before, was absolutely 
necessary to save the life of the Confederacy. It is 
true Lee failed to win the victory he had planned and 
hoped for. But little had he reckoned upon a second 
intervention of Fate: that the spirit of the Wilder- 
ness would strike Longstreet just as victory was in his 
grasp as it had struck Stonewall. 

Reader, if the Spirit of the Wilderness be unreal 
to you, not so is it to me. Bear in mind that the 
native realm of the spirit of man is nature's king- 
dom, that there he has made all of his discoveries, 
and yet what a vast region is unexplored, that re- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 109 

gion along whose misty coast Imagination wings 
her way bringing one suggestion after another of 
miraculous transformations, each drawing new hght 
and each proclaiming that nature's heart beats with 
our own. 

A little before sundown, when all were in camp 
for the night. Grant issued his orders for the next 
day. Sheridan was to move with Gregg and Torbert 
against the enemy's cavalry, who at that hour were 
supposed to be at Hamilton's Crossing, and who, as 
a matter of fact, were not there at all. Wilson, with 
his Third Cavalry Division, was to move at 5 a. m. 
to Craig's Meeting House, on the Catharpin Road, 
the one that Longstreet had chosen for his approach. 
Warren was to take Wilson's place at Parker's store; 
Sedgwick to move up to Old Wilderness Tavern, 
leaving one division at Germanna Ford till the head 
of Burnside's corps appeared; in other words, he 
was to occupy Warren's present position with his 
whole corps across the Pike. Hancock was to ad- 
vance by way of Todd's Tavern to Shady Grove 
Church on the Catharpin Road, and from there, 
about three and a half miles south of Warren, throw 
out his right and connect with him at Parker's store. 
Of the infantry, Hancock had by far the longest 
march to make, about twelve miles; the others only 
very short ones, not more than three or four miles. 
The trains were to be parked at Todd's Tavern. 

None of the moves, as we have stated, were 



110 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

long, or apparently any part of a well-defined series 
of movements, but, rather, precautionary. They 
neither seriously threatened Lee's communications 
with Richmond, nor indicated an active offensive, 
but were clearly made with a view to allow Burnside 
to overtake the army, and to get the big, unwieldy 
supply-trains a bit forward; for there was practically 
only one narrow road, and not a very good one at 
that, from where they were then halted to Todd's 
Tavern. It was for these reasons, I think, that 
Grant's orders did not push the army on clear through 
the Wilderness the second day. But whatsoever may 
have been the reason, there is something very strik- 
ing in his repetition of Hooker's delay of the year 
before. All vitality (and bluster, for that matter) 
was Hooker till he reached the heart of the Wilder- 
ness, but no sooner was he there than he became 
mentally numb and purposeless as though he had 
breathed some deep, stagnating fumes. A year, 
almost to a day, the army marched again, briskly 
and cheerily, to the heart of the Wilderness; and 
before its bivouac fires had died down, — indeed, 
before the sun had set, — the orders for the follow- 
ing day seemed to indicate that the lotus in the 
fateful region's gloom was again at work. While 
aides are carrying the orders to their respective des- 
tinations for the next day's march, the day ends, 
and twilight comes on. 
After night had set in, Meade, having disposed of 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 111 

all his current official duties for the day, came over 
from his headquarters — they were only a few steps 
away — and joined Grant before a large camp-fire 
made of rails. Grant's staff withdrew to a fire of 
their own, and left them alone. 

Meade was Grant's senior by about ten years, and 
the paths of their lives had run widely apart; un- 
clouded sunshine had fallen richly on Meade's, 
adversity's blasts had blown fiercely across Grant's. 
They were practically strangers to each other as they 
met at this camp-fire, and we may credit Meade, as 
he took his seat in its mellow blaze, with a wandering 
curiosity, a keen interest to fathom the medium sized 
diffident man with the marvelous career. He would 
not have been human without it; for as Grant had 
risen in his mighty flight, there had drifted to him 
as to every old officer of the army, minute details of 
the awful eclipse under which he had left it and the 
hard, honest trials he had met in supporting his family. 

Knowing ourselves and our fellow men as we do, 
it is not unreasonable then to imagine Meade, a man 
of the world, of cultivation, and at home in society 
and clubs, following Grant's motions and speech with 
the unobtrusive yet keen observation of men of his 
class; or to imagine Grant having to meet from him, 
as from all his old fellow officers of the army, that 
searching look which had met him invariably since 
his emergence from obscurity. But I can easily see 
Meade's curiosity disarming, and his noble, fiery 



112 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

nature breathing naturally and strengthening in the 
soothing influence of Grant's deep calm; every ut- 
terance of his low vibrating voice gliding modestly 
from one grasp of a subject to another, every tone 
simple and un-self-conscious, every thought as dis- 
tinct and fresh as a coin from the mint. 

I have no doubt that Grant's naturally sweet, 
modest nature, together with the auguries, which 
were all good, made Meade's first camp-fire with him 
a pleasant one; and that, before its flames and in the 
wild charm of the place, was born the spirit of loyal 
cooperation which he showed to his chief on every 
field and clear to the end. 

Our country owes a great deal to both of these 
men; justice, but not more than justice, has been 
done to Grant. Meade has never had his due. As 
I look back and see his devotion day and night in 
that last great campaign, his hair growing grayer, 
and the furrows in his face deeper, under its trying 
burden, and then, when it is all over and the cause 
is won, see him relegated to the third or fourth place 
in official recognition and popular favor, I feel deeply 
sorry, knowing, as I do, how the country's fate hung 
in the balance when he was called on to take com- 
mand of the Army of the Potomac. I hope his last 
hour was comforted, that there came to him out of 
the Past the cheers of his countrymen, greeting his 
victory at Gettysburg. 

After his death it was found that his system had 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 113 

never recovered from the wound he received at 
Charles City Cross Roads. 

From all accounts they were both cheery over 
having the army across the Rapidan. Anxiety over 
their first move was all gone. The stubborn resistance 
that Lee might have offered to their crossing of the 
river had not been made; and now that they were 
well established on his flank, he would be forced to 
decisive action: he would either have to fight it out 
at once, or fall back and ultimately undergo a siege. 
In the way they misconceived what Lee would do, 
there is almost a suggestion of fatality. For although 
there is no absolute corroborative evidence to sup- 
port the conclusion, yet the movements show that 
what they expected was this: that he would hastily 
withdraw from his works and place his army to 
receive, but not to give, attack. Hooker had yielded 
to the same illusion. In forecasting his Chancellors- 
ville campaign, he had imagined that when Lee at 
Fredericksburg found that he was on his flank at 
Chancellorsville, he would fall back from Fredericks- 
burg and contest the way to Richmond. The differ- 
ence between the results in Hooker's case and in 
Grant's was wide: the former was driven from the 
field in almost utter disaster; Grant met Lee's attack 
in the Wilderness, threw him back, and pushed on 
undaunted. 

Had Meade and Grant, — as they sat there, the stars 
over them and the Rapidan swirling along, now and 



114 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

then breaking into a gurgle, — had they known that 
Ewell was within three miles of Warren, it would 
have been, I think, quite another camp-fire, and 
Meade might never have gained those first fine im- 
pressions of Grant which were so honorable to him 
and so valuable to the country, for whose sake, I 
sincerely believe. Fortune so turned her wheel that 
they might be made that night. 

It is a matter of singular interest that all this time 
Lee's position was barely suspected, and his purpose 
entirely unknown to either of them. And how it all 
came about is one of the mysterious features of the 
Battle of the Wilderness. Let me state the circum- 
stances, and I promise to make the account as short 
and comprehensible as I can. 

Wilson, with his third division of cavalry, reached 
the Lacy farm about half -past eight in the forenoon ; 
halted, and sent patrols westward and southward, 
that is, out on the Pike toward Locust Grove and 
along the county road to Parker's store. At noon, 
when the head of Warren's corps bore in sight, he set 
off for Parker's, first sending orders to the scouting 
party on the Pike to push out as far as Robertson's 
Tavern (now, and by the Confederates dm'ing the 
war, called Locust Grove) and, after driving the 
enemy away from that place, to ride across country 
and join the division in the neighborhood of Par- 
ker's store. Wilson, with the bulk of his division. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 115 

on arriving at the store about two o'clock, sent a 
strong reconnoissance up the Plank Road, with di- 
rections to keep an active lookout for the enemy. 
In a despatch to Forsythe, Sheridan's chief of staff, 
dated 2.10 p. m., he said, "I send herewith a civilian, 
Mr. Sime, a citizen of Great Britain. He says he 
left Orange yesterday 2 p. m.; Longstreet's corps lies 
between there and Gordonsville; passed at the latter 
place; Ewell and Hill about Orange Court House. 
Troops well down toward Mine Run [about half-way 
between the Lacy farm and the Court House], on 
all the roads except this one [the Plank] ; none on this 
nearer than seven miles to this place. I have sent 
patrols well out in all directions, but as yet hear of 
nothing except few light parties scattered through 
the by-roads." 

Sheridan sent the following despatch to Meade, — 
the hour not given, but presumably toward sundown : 
"I have the honor to report that scout sent out the 
first road leading to the right from Germanna Ford 
went as far as Barnett's Mill at or near Mine Run 
[Barnett's Mill is on Mine Run], found the enemy's 
pickets. Also the scout sent out on the second road 
to the right [the Flat Run Road that intersects the 
Pike where the battle began] went to within one-half 
mile of Robertson's Tavern, found a small force of 
the enemy's cavalry on picket. It was also reported 
that a brigade of rebel infantry was sent down to 
Barnett's Mill or Mine Run yesterday." 



116 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

These scouts referred to were probably individ- 
uals in Confederate uniform, for Sheridan always 
kept a group of these quiet, daring men about him 
on whom he called for hazardous service. 

At 7.40 p. M. Wilson again reported to Forsythe: 
"I have executed all orders so far. My patrols have 
been to the Catharpin Road. Did not see Gregg, 
and only two of the enemy; also to within one mile 
of Mine Run on Orange Pike [Plank.''] skirmishing 
with small detachments of the enemy. Patrol to 
Robertson's Tavern not yet heard from.'* 

Ten minutes later, or at 7.50 p. m., Wilson sent 
this despatch to Warren: "My whole division is at 
this place [Parker's store], patrols and advanced par- 
ties well out on the Spotsylvania and Orange roads. 
No enemy on former, and but small parties on this. 
Drove them six miles or to within one mile of Mine 
Road. Patrol from here toward Robertson's not yet 
reported. Rodes's division reported to be stretched 
along the road as far as twelve miles this side of 
Orange. Will notify you of any changes in this 
direction." 

Here we have all the recorded information that 
Meade could have received of the enemy up to when 
he joined Grant at his camp-fire. 

Probably the reason why W^ilson's report as to 
Rodes's position made no impression on Humphreys 
or Meade — for it must be assumed that it reached 
them — was because they interpreted it as meaning 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 117 

his winter-quarters, which was nothing new, for 
prisoners and deserters had given them that infor- 
mation during the winter, and they had so located 
him on a map kept for the purpose. Their interpreta- 
tion accounts, too, for neither Warren nor Sheridan 
making any further suggestion to Wilson as to Rodes's 
whereabouts. The fact is that at that very hour of 
7.50 p. M. he was bivouacked just behind Johnson's 
and Nelson's battalion of artillery two miles south 
of Locust Grove, and the head of Hill's corps was 
east of Verdierville. 

There is but one explanation for this mysterious 
indifference in the presence of an enemy, namely, 
that Grant and Meade were possessed with the idea 
that Lee, as soon as he should find that we had 
crossed the Rapidan, would hasten from his lines to 
some position beyond the Wilderness. No fog ever 
drifted in from the sea, wrapping up lighthouses 
and headlands, that was deeper than this delusion 
which drifted in over the minds of Grant and 
Meade, and, so far as I know, over corps and divi- 
sion-commanders as well. 

But how about Wilson's patrols.'' And especially 
that one he had sent toward Locust Grove .f* This is 
probably what happened. It got to Locust Grove 
before noon, having scattered into the by-roads and 
paths the videttes of the First North Carolina 
cavalry whom they had brushed away from the ford 
at daybreak. From there I assume they went on to 



118 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Mine Run, which they found ghnting brightly down 
through the old fields from one clump of willows 
to another. Beyond the run, and in full sight, rose 
Lee's breastworks of the year before, not a flag fly- 
ing on them or a soul in them. All was peaceful 
at Mine Run. After a while, having scouted up and 
down the run as far as Barnett's Mill on the north, 
and off toward the head of the run on the south, 
they rejoined the main patrol at Locust Grove. 
No one disturbed them, and there they waited till 
they saw the sun approaching the tree-tops, and 
then they obeyed their orders and struck off 
through the woods for Parker's store. The chances 
are that their dust had barely settled before on came 
Ewell. Had they stayed at Locust Grove a few hours 
longer, what would have happened .^^ Why, the orders 
issued at 6 o'clock would have been countermanded 
at once. Warren and Sedgwick would have struck 
at Ewell early in the morning, and Hancock, instead 
of going to Todd's Tavern, would have reached 
Parker's store by sun-up, and probably before noon 
a great victory would have been won. 

Is there nothing mysterious in all this.'' Knowing 
the situation as we now do, does it not add interest 
to that camp-fire of old rails, before which Grant and 
Meade are sitting smoking.'' Does it not give a weird 
echo to the bursts of laughter of their staffs? Laugh 
on, gay children of fortune ! and meanwhile the spirit 
of the Wilderness is brooding. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 119 

Lee's camp-fire was in the woods opposite the 
house of a Mrs. Rodes near Verdierville; and it must 
have been a cheery one, for General Long, his military 
secretary, says that at breakfast the following morn- 
ing he was in unusually fine spirits, chiefly over the 
fact that Grant had put himself in the meshes of the 
Wilderness, just as Hooker before him had done, 
giving him the one chance to overbalance his one 
hundred and twenty thousand men. 

From Grant's headquarters to Lee's was, as the 
crow flies, between nine and ten miles; and a circle 
with its centre where Warren was in camp and a 
radius of six miles would have taken in the bulk of 
ours and half of Lee's army. And yet the Army of 
the Potomac lay down to rest, unconscious that they 
were almost within gunshot of their old foe! 

Happily all of their camps were on less gloomy 
and fated ground than Hancock's. His were on the 
old battlefield of Chancellorsville, and some of his 
regiments found themselves on the identical lines 
where they had fought in that engagement. The 
ground around their camp-fires, and for that matter 
everywhere, was strewn more or less with human 
bones and the skeletons of horses. In a spot less 
than ten rods square, fifty skulls with their cavern- 
ous eyes were counted, their foreheads doming in 
silence above the brown leaves that were gathering 
about them. In sight of a good many of their camp- 
fires, too, were half-open graves, displaying arms and 



120 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

legs with bits of paling and mildewed clothing still 
clinging to them: — oh, war's glory, this is your re- 
verse side ! — On all hands there were tokens of the 
battle: shriveling cartridge-boxes, battered and rick- 
etty canteens, rotting caps and hats, broken artil- 
lery-carriages, barked and splintered trees, dead, or 
half-dead, dangling limbs, and groves of saplings, 
with which the woods abound, topped by volleys as 
if sheared by a blast. Of course, there was line after 
line of confronting, settling breastworks, whose shal- 
lowing trenches nature was quietly filling with leaves 
and dead twigs. All these dismal reminders met the 
eyes of Hancock's men until they were closed in 
sleep. I do not know how it would have affected 
others, but I think that if I had been sitting before 
one of those camp-fires, night having well come on 
and the whippoorwills, of which there are thou- 
sands that make their homes in the Wilderness, re- 
peating their lonely cries, and the fire drawing to its 
end should have suddenly kindled up as fires do, — 
and mortals, too, sometimes before they die, — and 
thrown off a beam into the darkness upon one of 
those skulls, it seems to me that I should have felt a 
low, muffling beat in my heart, and heard the rap 
of life's seriousness at its door. 

Hancock's tent was in the old peach-orchard. 
(What is there about a peach-orchard that war 
should choose it for the scene of battles.'^ There was 
the battle of Peach-tree Creek near Atlanta, the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 121 

Peach-Orchard at Gettysburg, and now Hancock 
is in the old peach-orchard at Chancellorsville, where 
the battle raged fiercest. Does war love the red blos- 
som, or did the blood of some noble-hearted soldier 
quicken the first peach-bloom of the world?) It is 
reasonable to believe that the whole disastrous scene 
of the year before must have passed in review before 
Hancock. But the feature of the battle that would 
come back to him, I think, with most vividness, and 
make the deepest impression on him as a corps-com- 
mander, was the flank attack that Stonewall Jackson 
made. In fact, judging from his own reports of the 
first two days' fighting at the Wilderness (which took 
place within less than three miles of where he slept), 
he not only thought about it, but dreamed about it. 
For, the entire time he was fighting Hill, he was 
haunted with the fear, paralyzing a great share of 
his customary aggressive and magnetic usefulness, 
that Longstreet would come up on his left by way 
of Todd's Tavern and give him a blow on his flank 
such as Jackson had given Howard. 

I wonder. Reader, if the ghost of Stonewall did 
not really come back? You see, it was about the 
anniversary of the night on which he received his 
mortal wound, and the old armies that he knew so 
well were on the eve of meeting again. What should 
be more natural than that he should come to this 
side of the river, that river whose beckoning trees 
offered such sweet shade to the dying soldier? Did 



122 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

I hear you say that you thought he did? Whylo! here 
he is on the field of Chancellorsville, looking for his 
brigade, — for his old legion of the Valley. Let us 
draw near. "They are not here, Stonewall; these 
men you see are Hancock's men." And now he goes 
to the peach-orchard, for no soldier ever took part in a 
battle who does not have a longing to see the ground 
the enemy defended. He approaches Hancock's tent, 
— they had known each other in the old army, — 
with his right hand — his left arm you remember 
was amputated two inches below the shoulder — he 
draws the walls softly, and looks in on the gallant 
friend of other days. Perhaps it was then that 
Hancock dreamed Longstreet was on his flank. 
i Stonewall closes the tent and seems to ponder; 
is he debating where he shall go next? Shall it be 
off to where he parted with Lee to make his great 
flank movement via the old Furnace Road where 
Gregg's cavalry outposts, saddled and bridled, are 
now dozing, or shall it be back to where he met the 
fatal volley? The latter has won. If you will follow 
him, so will I, for the road, the woods that border 
it, and the spot to which he is going, I know right 
well. And now that he has reached there his lips 
seem to move; is it a prayer he is offering? Or is he 
addressing some aide, telling Hill as on the night of 
the battle to come up and Pender to push right on? 
Abruptly, and with almost a gasp, he fastens his 
astonished gaze on a cowled figure that has emerged 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 123 

from the trees and is looking at him. Is it the 
Spirit of the Wilderness, whose relentless eyes met 
his as he fell, and does he read in their cold deptlis 
the doom awaiting Longstreet? Who knows his 
thoughts as he turns away from the fated spot and 
sets off up the Orange Plank Road, for his melan- 
choly heart yearns to be with Lee and his valiant 
corps once more. And now he has reached the junc- 
tion of the Orange and the Brock roads which is 
in the midst of woods; the stars, although hazy and 
dim, light the crossing a little and he halts. Down 
the latter, up which he rode on his historic march, 
he looks long and wistfully; is he expecting his old 
corps again? Deep is the silence in the slumbering 
woods. A little bird in its dreams utters one strain 
of its lonely wood-note and then is still; and now 
instead of oncoming troops across the Brock Road 
from east to west, the direction Stonewall is going, 
and with the soft pace of a phantom, flits the cowled 
figure, turning her face hastily toward him as she 
enters the sullen oaks. With a sigh he moves on to- 
ward Parker's store, and when he draws near where 
Mahone's men fired on Longstreet, something on his 
left attracts his attention and he pauses suddenly. 

Whose hands are those pulling aside the bushes 
and overhanging limbs? Lo! there again is the 
Spirit of the W^ilderness, with the same ominous, 
relentless look. A moment's glance is exchanged. 
The figure withdraws, the branches swing back into 



124 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

place, and the ghost of Stonewall moves on, with 
troubled brow. 

Hark! he hears something. It draws nearer, and 
now we can distinguish footsteps; they sound as if 
they were dragging chains after them through the 
dead rustling leaves. Presently, off from the roadside 
where two oaks press back the tangle, admitting a 
bit of starlight, Stonewall sees a gaunt, hollow- 
breasted, wicked-eyed, sunken-cheeked being. Be- 
\^ hold, she is addressing him! "Stonewall, I am Slav- 
^' ery and sorely wounded. Can you do nothing to stay 
the Spirit of the Wilderness that, in striking at me, 
^ struck you down?" 

"No, no," says the ghostly commander, impa- 
tiently waving the staring creature away. "Your 
^ day, thank God! has come. To-morrow morning 
'^^ Lee will strike, but it will not be for you." 

"And is this history?" comes a peevish voice from 

■^ the general level of those who are as yet only dimly 

^ conscious of the essence and final embodiment of 

W History. Yes, it is a little sheaf out of a field lying 

in one of its high and beautifully remote valleys. 

Such then is the chronicle of the first day of the 
campaign. And now it is midnight; all save the 
sentinels are asleep, and the whippoorwills are still 
chanting. 



At Warren's headquarters we breakfasted early, and 
at 5 A. M., just as the sun had cleared the tree-tops, 
he sent the following despatch to Humphreys : — 

*'My command is just starting out. As I have but 
little ways to move, I keep my trains with me in- 
stead of sending them around by the plank road, 
which I fear might interfere with the main trains, 
which I understand to be those to be assembled at 
Todd's Tavern." 

A half-hour later he notified Getty, camped back 
at Flat Run on the Germanna Road, that Griffin, in 
conformity with Meade's orders of the night before, 
would hold the Pike till he (Getty) got up. At the 
same time he sent word to the officer in charge of 
the pickets in Griffin's front not to withdraw till the 
column got well in the road on the line of march to 
Parker's store. He then mounted his big, logy dapple- 
gray, wearing as usual his yellow sash of a major- 
general, and started to follow Crawford and Wads- 
worth, who from his camp he could see were already 
under way, passing the Lacy house. Just as he was 
reaching the Pike, — we had not left camp three 
minutes, — a staff officer, riding rapidly, met him 
and, saluting, said that General Griffin had sent him 



126 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

to tell General Warren that the enemy was advancing 
in force on his pickets. 

I do not believe that Warren ever had a greater 
surprise in his life, but his thin, solemn, darkly sallow 
face was nowhere lightened by even a transitory 
flare — Hancock's open, handsome countenance 
would have been all ablaze. There was with Warren 
at this time, as I recall, only Colonel Locke, Dr. 
Winne, the general's brother Robert, and Lieutenant 
Higbee, an aide who had been on his staff for a good 
while, and who was a very brave man. Warren first 
turned to me and said, "Tell Griffin to get ready to 
attack at once"; then, for some reason, perhaps 
because of my youth and inexperience, he told Higbee 
to take the message, and at once notified Meade as 
follows : — 

"6 A. M. General Griffin has just sent in word that 
a force of the enemy has been reported to him coming 
down the turnpike. The foundation of the report is 
not given. Until it is more definitely ascertained no 
change will take place in the movements ordered." 

(And now he yielded to one of his weaknesses, 
referred to by Grant in his Memoirs, namely, inform- 
ing his commanding officer what should be done. 
He had another and more fatal one, that of comment- 
ing at times unfavorably, regardless of who were 
present, on the orders he received.) 

"Such demonstrations are to be expected, and 
show the necessity for keeping well closed and pre- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 127 

pared to face Mine Run and meet an attack at a 
moment's notice. G. K. Warren." 

Before the above despatch left headquarters an- 
other aide came in and Warren added : — 

"6.20. Bartlett (GrijBSn's advanced brigade) sends 
in word that the enemy has a line of infantry out 
advancing. We shall soon know more. I have 
arranged for Griffin to hold the pike till the 6th corps 
comes up at all events. G. K. W." 

He then sent this order to Griffin : — 

"Push a force out at once against the enemy, and 
see what force he has." 

Even Warren had not quite thrown off the delu- 
sion that Lee was falling back; but within three hours, 
like a fog, it lifted, not only from his mind but from 
Meade's and Grant's also. 

Griffin, on receipt of these orders, forwarded them 
to Bartlett, who sent at once the Eighteenth Massa- 
chusetts and Eighty-third Pennsylvania, the former 
on the right, the latter on the left of the Pike. When 
they reached the pickets, still on their posts of the night 
before, skirmishers were thrown out, who promptly 
engaged those of Ewell, driving them back, and 
quickly ascertaining that the enemy was there in 
strong force. On this reconnaissance Charles H. Wil- 
son of Wrentham, Company I, Eighteenth Massachu- 
setts, was killed, the first to fall in the campaign. He 
was only eighteen years old, and the son of a farmer. 

In a short time after these orders were sent to 



128 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Griffin, Meade with his staff came up hurriedly to 
Warren, and, hearing what he had to say, exclaimed 
emphatically, "If there is to be any fighting this side 
of Mine Run, let us do it right off." 

I have seen many statements as to what Meade 
said, but I was within ten feet of him, and recall with 
distinctness his face, his language, and its tones. 
Meade then sent this despatch back to Grant, who 
was still at his camp waiting for Burnside. It was 
received at 7.30 a. m. 

"The enemy have appeared in force on the pike, 
and are now reported forming line of battle in front 
of Griffin's division, 5th Corps. I have directed Gen. 
Warren to attack them at once with his whole force. 
Until this movement of the enemy is developed, the 
march of the corps must be suspended. I have, 
therefore, sent word to Hancock not to advance 
beyond Todd's Tavern. I think the enemy is trying 
to delay our movements and will not give battle, 
but of this we shall soon see." (General Meade, may 
I ask when Lee ever declined battle with you.^* All 
your doubts on this point will soon be removed, 
however; for he is right on you and means to deliver 
a blow, if he can, that will send you reeling, as he 
sent Hooker, back across the Rapid an.) 

Grant, on receipt of this unexpected news from 
Meade, replied, "If any opportunity presents itself 
for pitching into a part of Lee's army, do so without 
giving time for disposition." 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 129 

Meanwhile Warren, having hurried aides off to 
Crawford and Wadsworth, the former to halt, the 
latter to move up on GriflBn's left, established his 
headquarters at the Lacy house. From there he sent 
this message, dated 7.50 a. m., to GrifSn: — 

"Have your whole division prepared to move for- 
ward and attack the enemy, and await further in- 
structions while the other troops are forming." 

He then rode, and I went with him, to W^adsworth, 
who had halted about a mile beyond the Lacy house. 
Where we overtook him there was an old chimney 
that probably marked the home of one of Major 
Lacy's overseers. I remember it very distinctly, for 
one of Warren's staff having observed that a bare 
little knoll near the chimney would be a good place 
for a battery, he observed coolly that when he 
wanted advice from his staff he would ask for it. 
I have always thought that it was an uncalled-for 
snub on the part of Warren, but a great deal must be 
excused when a battle is pending; I doubt, however, 
if Grant or Sedgwick or Thomas under any stress 
ever spoke to a young officer or soldier in a way or 
tone that made him uncomfortable. 

Wadsworth was just forming his division, to the 
right of the Parker's Store Road which at that point 
and for quite a distance runs almost west, following 
up the main branch of Wilderness Run. Warren said 
to him, "Find out what is in there," indicating the 
deep woods. And did they find something? Yes, in- 



130 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

deed they did — many their eternal rest. We then 
went back to the Lacy house, and Warren soon set 
off to see GriflBn. 

By the time Warren's aide overtook Crawford (it 
was just eight o'clock), the head of his division had 
reached the Chewning farm which lies somewhat 
beyond where Wadsworth was forming. The ground 
from the run rises up sharply to its rather high, 
dipping, and swerving fields, which, when I saw them 
last, were beginning to clothe themselves in spring- 
time green. The heaving plateau is on swings east- 
ward around the valley of Wilderness Run, like the 
rim of a great kettle, falling away at last in the angle 
between the Brock and the Plank roads into many 
zigzag, swampy ravines, the heads of the easterly 
branches of the Run. 

Two roads connect Chewning's with the Plank, 
one through the woods to the Store about a mile 
south; the other follows the rim of the kettle for 
a while and then breaks away to the Widow Tapp's. 
Let any one stand on the rolling fields now and he 
will recognize at once their value to us could we have 
held them. 

In acknowledging the receipt of Warren's orders, 
Crawford said : — 

"There is brisk skirmishing at the store between 
our own and the enemy's cavalry. I am halted in a 
good position." 

The cavalry he saw were the Fifth New York, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 131 

five hundred strong, whom Wilson had left to hold 
the place till Crawford should arrive. They were not 
skirmishing, however, with cavalry, but with the 
head of Heth's division of Hill's corps — the same 
one that opened the battle of Gettysburg. And here 
is what had happened. On Wilson's departure for 
Craig's Meeting House, Colonel Hammond, a very 
gallant man, in command of the Fifth New York, 
sent two companies under Captain Barker of Crown 
Point, New York, to scout the road toward Verdier- 
ville. He had not covered more than two miles before 
he ran up against Heth marching leisurely in column. 
The Captain, a resolute man as you can readily 
see on looking into his steady dark eyes, dismounted 
his men, formed them as skirmishers across the road, 
and notified Hammond, who at once came up with 
the rest of the regiment. Of course they were 
driven back, but not without making a fine stub- 
born resistance and meeting with heavy losses. By 
the time Crawford reached Chewning's, Hammond 
had been pushed to Parker's store. Roebling then 
with Crawford hastened to the store, and Ham- 
mond told him that perhaps he could hold on fifteen 
minutes longer, whereupon Roebling hurried back 
to Crawford; but it was too late for him to inter- 
pose behind Hammond. Moreover, a heavy skir- 
mish line from Heth's leading brigade was being 
thrown out toward him. He formed one brigade 
facing toward the store, the other west, and by that 



1S2 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

time Hammond had been driven from the store and 
Heth with his main column was slowly following 
him, unmindful apparently of Crawford's position 
on his flank. 

When Crawford's despatch, quoted above, reached 
corps headquarters, Warren was still with Griffin; 
and it was sent to Meade, who, judging from the 
indorsement he put upon it, — "I have sent to 
Wilson, who I hope will himself find out the move- 
ment of the enemy," — was not even at that early 
hour — it was just after nine — in a very good 
humor. 

Had Warren's orders to Crawford been delayed 
twenty or thirty minutes in delivery, the entire day's 
operations would have been changed, for his advance 
would have brought him into immediate contact with 
the Confederate infantry and Lee's plans would have 
been disclosed at once. It is all conjecture what would 
have been the moves Grant would have made in that 
case, but the chances are, however, that Hancock 
would have been diverted to the junction of the 
Brock and Plank roads; that Getty would have been 
pushed immediately to the Chewning farm, and with 
Hancock forcing his way to Parker's store, and those 
open fields firmly in our possession, it would have 
made Lee's position very critical. If Warren, after 
giving Wadsworth his orders to find out what was 
in the woods to the left of Grifiin, had continued 
up the road to Crawford, his quick eye would have 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 133 

taken in the strength and importance of the Chewn- 
ing plateau at a glance, and he would have repeated 
his brilliant coup on Round Top by bringing Wads- 
worth right up to hold it as he had brought up 
O'Rorke. But that was not to be; fate had decided 
that Lee and not Grant was to hold these fields. 

Warren, on reaching GriflBn, impressed with the 
seriousness of the situation as he saw it in front of 
him and practically ignorant of that in front of 
Crawford, ordered Wads worth to connect with 
Griffin's left and Crawford to join Wads worth's left 
as quickly as possible. When this order came to 
Crawford, Roebling, who was then with him, sent 
in all haste this despatch to Warren : "It is of vital 
importance to hold the field where General Crawford 
is. Our whole line of battle is turned if the enemy 
get possession of it. There is a gap of half a mile 
between Wads worth and Crawford. He cannot hold 
the line against attack." * 

Warren's only reply was curt. Crawford was to 
obey the orders he had received. Meanwhile, Warren 
in a despatch dated 10.30 had directed Wadsworth 
to "Push forward a heavy line of skirmishers followed 
by your line of battle, and attack the enemy at once 
and push him. General Griffin will also attack. Do 

' I beg to acknowledge my obligations to Col. Washington A. Roeb- 
ling, Warren's chief of staff, for the valuable aid his notes have given 
me ; and to Prof. Theodore Lyman, son of Col. Theodore Lyman, 
Meade's most confidential staff officer, who has allowed me to consult 
his gallant father's notes of the battle. 



134 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

not wait for him, but look out for your left flank." 
This injunction as to Wadsworth's left flank was 
obviously due to Warren's fear that, owing to the 
character of the country, Crawford's division might 
be delayed in joining him. 

This order to Wadsworth is so inconsistent with 
what actually transpired that it can only be ac- 
counted for by the fretful nagging which had be- 
gun on Warren from headquarters, and by the fact 
that GriflBn, Ayres, and Bartlett, having visited their 
skirmish lines and discovered that the enemy were 
in strong force, were averse to moving unpreparedly, 
and had so notified him. Colonel Swan of Ayres's 
staff, whose account is altogether the clearest and 
most comprehensive yet written of that part of the 
field, says he went back to Warren at least twice, 
at Griflfin's behest, to report the gravity of the situa- 
tion, and that Warren used sharp language to him 
the second time. Colonel Swan says, "I remember 
my indignation. It was afterwards a common report 
in the army that Warren had just had unpleasant 
things said to him by General Meade, and that 
General Meade had just heard the bravery of his 
army questioned." 

The ground for the latter might have been some 
heedless remark from one of Grant's aides who had 
come with him from the West. But however this 
may be, such was the situation and its feverishness 
at eleven o'clock on Warren's front. It should be 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS. 135 

said that while Wadsworth and Crawford were trying 
to get into hne Griffin had thrown up some pretty 
strong breastworks, for he was feehng the weight of 
the force in his front. 

And now let us leave the pestered Warren and see 
what was going on elsewhere. As soon as Grant 
could communicate the necessary orders to Burn- 
side as to the disposition of his troops at the ford, he 
came to the front with all speed: it was then about 
nine o'clock. On his arrival he found Meade and 
Sedgwick standing near the Pike, and after a short 
consultation he and Meade pitched their headquar- 
ters near by, on a knoll covered with pines from four 
to seven inches in diameter, the ground strewn with 
needles and bits of dead limbs. It is now part of an 
open leaning field, with here and there an old tree 
dreaming of the past; and nearly opposite, on the 
Pike, is a little frame chapel, its bell on Sunday 
mornings pealing softly over it. 

They had barely dismounted before news of im- 
portance besides Crawford's first despatch came in. 
Captain Michler of the engineers, whom Meade had 
sent to reconnoitre to the right of Griffin, had been 
suddenly fired on while making his way through the 
thickety heads of Caton's Run. After satisfying him- 
self that trouble was brewing, he hurried down the 
Flat Run Road to its junction with that from Ger- 
manna, and notified Meade of the situation. Wright, 
with his division of the Sixth Corps, was moving 



136 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

along unconscious of danger; but as soon as he 
heard Michler's story he formed his division, facing 
it west, and soon orders came to move up and join 
the right of Griffin. He had to advance through 
about the most broken and confusing district of the 
Wilderness; his left, under Upton, having to cross 
all the branches of Caton's Run, which are densely 
packed with bushes, vines, and low-limbed trees. 

Meanwhile, to the wonder of headquarters, no 
news had come from Wilson; but it is easy of expla- 
nation. Not having received counter-instructions 
and the enemy having made no demonstration, he 
had set off promptly for Craig's Meeting House on 
the Catharpin Road. His division got there at eight 
o'clock; and shortly after its leading brigade engaged 
Rosser and drove him westward several miles. Rosser 
was soon reinforced, and pushing Wilson back got 
possession of the road to Parker's store, thus cutting 
him off from communicating with Meade. 

Every little while, however, as the morning had 
worn on, wounded men had come down Wilderness 
Run from the gallant Hammond's command, all 
telling the same story of the advance of Hill toward 
the Brock Road. Meade realized his danger; with 
the junction of the Brock and Plank roads in Lee's 
possession, Warren's position would be turned and 
Hancock at Todd's Tavern completely isolated from 
the other corps. So about half-past ten Getty, who 
had been lying near headquarters, with the third 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 137 

division of the Sixth Corps, — waiting, shall I say, for 
the delusion to lift that Lee was retreating? — was 
ordered to move thither with all haste, and head off 
Hill. At the same time Hancock, who, dismounted, 
was resting in a pine grove beyond Todd's Tav- 
ern, was told to come up without delay and support 
Getty. 

Meanwhile Winne and the other surgeons were 
busy locating their hospitals and getting ready for 
what they knew was coming. And by ten o'clock 
the yellow flags of the first, second, and third di- 
visions of the Fifth Corps were flying on the ridge 
east of Wilderness Run; that of the third was first 
near the Lacy house, but later moved back with the 
rest; those of Wright's and Rickett's divisions of the 
Sixth Corps were behind them respectively to the 
east of the Germanna Road; that of Getty, and later 
those of Hancock's corps, were pitched near Lewis 
Run among the fields of the Carpenter farm, which 
when I saw them last were in blading corn. 

Sheridan had made an early start for Hamilton's 
Crossing, but finding he was on a wild-goose chase, 
turned back toward Todd's Tavern, and, fortunately, 
his leading division under Gregg reached there just 
in time to relieve Wilson, who after severe fighting 
had been driven rapidly by Rosser and Fitz Lee 
from the right of Lee's advance. 

The absence of any news from Wilson, the threat- 
ened danger on the Plank and Brock roads, and the 



138 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

delay of Warren, all added to the intensity of the 
situation; and impatience at Meade's and Grant's 
headquarters grew apace as the sun rose higher, 
i Again and again inquiries were made of Warren 
when Griffin would move, and each time with more 
edge, for no one at headquarters shared his conviction 
that the situation called for a thoroughly organ- 
ized and formidable attack; why, it was only a rear 
guard! Moreover, had any one of the eager, self- 
sufficient headquarters staff tried to put a division 
or even a regiment in line, he would soon have real- 
ized the difficulties and would have had abundant 
charity for Warren. It is true that the delay that 
morning was almost inexplicable. But once a division 
left the roads or fields it disappeared utterly, and its 
commander could not tell whether it was in line with 
the others or not. As it turned out, they were almost 
as disconnected when they struck the enemy as if 
they had been marching in the dark. Yet it took 
nearly four hours to get ready to form, and when the 
orders came to go ahead, divisions were still looking 
for each others' flanks. 

By half -past eleven Meade, with Heth advancing 
every minute toward the Brock Road, could stand 
the delay no longer, and, whether or not Wright was 
abreast with Griffin, "Send him ahead!" was the firm 
command from headquarters. 

The situation, then, on our side, thirty minutes 
before the battle began, is as follows: Bartlett's 



THE BATTLE OF TEE WILDERNESS 139 

brigade of Griffin's division is forming in two lines of 
battle on the south of the Pike. The first line is the 
Eighteenth Massachusetts and Eighty-third Penn- 
sylvania, the latter next the road; the second line, 
the One Hundred and Eighteenth Pennsylvania and 
Twentieth Maine, the First Michigan deployed as 
skirmishers. Ayres is moving up by the flank of regi- 
ments in column of fours, through the tangled cedars 
and pines on the right of the Pike, the One Hundred 
and Fortieth New York, Pat O'Rorke's old regiment, 
on the left of the first line, and then the Regulars. 
In the second line, its left on the Pike, is the One 
Hundred and Forty-sixth New York, then the Ninety- 
first and One Hundred and Fifty-fifth Pennsylvania. 

Upton's men, the left of Wright's division of the 
Sixth Corps, are elbowing their way through a tangle 
like that Ayres is worming his way through, trying to 
overtake and connect with him. In fact when I was 
there last spring Upton's ground seemed to me the 
worse, but both were bad enough. Wright's second 
brigade, made up entirely of troops from New Jersey, 
is on Upton's right and across the Flat Run Road 
(they too were in the network of undergrowth). 
Wright himself is close behind them on the road and 
Sedgwick, the best wheel horse, so to speak, in the 
army team, is in the corner of the old Spottswood field 
where the Flat Run Road leaves the Germanna Ford. 

Wads worth, mounted on his iron gray, lighter in 
color than Warren's, is following up his division that 



140 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

is trying to advance in line of battle to join Bartlett's 
left. Cutler is on the right with the Iron Brigade, the 
Twenty-fourth Michigan on its left. Stone is in the 
centre of the division, Rice on the left. Daniel W. 
Taft, a brave, one-armed Vermont veteran, who was 
with Rice in the Ninety-fifth New York, tells me that, 
as they advanced, a wild turkey, the first and only 
one he ever saw, broke from a thicket ahead of them. 
'; The Maryland brigade of Robinson's division is in 
reserve behind Stone, Robinson's other division 
ready to support Griffin. 

Getty at the head of his division has reached the 
junction of the Brock and Plank roads. He was 
there just in time, for with his staff and escort, al- 
though under fire of the tall North Carolinians who 
had driven Hammond back, he held them off till 
Wheaton coming up at run formed across the Plank 
Road, saving the key of the battle-field. There were 
bodies of Confederate dead within less than two 
hundred feet of this vital point. Hancock, urged by 
orders from Meade, is riding rapidly ahead of his 
corps up the Brock Road to join Getty. His troops 
are coming on, too, as fast as they can, sometimes 
at double-quick, but all are greatly delayed by 
artillery, trains, and horsemen, the road being very 
narrow and bordered by such thick woods that they 
cannot draw off into them to clear the way for the 
infantry. 

For three or four miles this side of Todd's Tavern 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 141 

the road is packed with his sweltering troops, for 
it is very hot in the still woods. The main heavy 
supply trains that had followed Hancock's troops to 
Todd's Tavern have faced about and are making all 
speed for Chancellorsville, where the artillery re- 
serve is going into park. 

Wilson is being roughly handled but his pursuers 
are suffering too. Sheridan, under a cloud of trail- 
ing dust, is returning from his wild-goose chase 
(and by the way he had the effrontery to claim that 
it was Meade's fault and not his that the march 
had been made, — in fact, his orders were based 
on his own report of the location of the Confeder- 
ate cavalry, — which if borne in mind, as well as 
Meade's temper, may account in part for the char- 
acter of their future relations). At headquarters, 
anxiety with Meade and Humphreys is increasing 
over Hill's move toward the Brock Road. The eagle 
spirit in Meade is up, and a captious wonder per- 
vades his and Grant's staff why Warren does not at- 
tack. No one seems to know or care whether Upton 
is alongside of Griffin or not; even up to that hour a 
good many of the wise ones among them were pretty 
sure that there was nothing very serious in front of 
Warren. 

Burnside's corps suffering with heat is marching 
as fast as it can for Germanna Ford, the rear of the 
column, Ferrero's colored division, is on the other 
side of the Rappahannock. 



142 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

The batteries in the Lacy fields and on the over- 
looking ridge east of Wilderness Run stand hitched 
ready to move, the buglers following their captains 
as they go from section to section of their batteries, 
the gunners lying down or leaning against their well- 
loved pieces. There is one battery close behind 
Griffin. Ammunition-wagons from the various sup- 
ply-trains have drawn out and taken positions as 
close as they dare to their respective brigades. The 
ambulances, too, have come forward and are wait- 
ing for their pale passengers. 

At last Meade's imperative orders have reached 
Warren, Griffin's lines are moving, and every one 
at headquarters is in momentary expectation of 
hearing the first volley. One who has never been 
through it cannot realize the tensity of that hour in 
the Wilderness: we knew it was the beginning of the 
end, victory for us at last or victory for them. i 

Grant is sitting with his back against a young pine, 
whittling and smoking, his modest, almost plaintive, 
face as calm as though he were sitting on a beach 
and waves were breaking softly below him. The sun 
is in the meridian, not a cloud marbles the sky, and 
Wilderness Run is glistening down through the fields. 
In the woods not a living leaf is stirring, and the 
dead ones are waiting to pillow softly the maimed 
and dying. "The mortally wounded will be so 
thirsty!" says a spring beauty blooming on the bank 
of the little run that crosses the Pike in front of 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 143 

GriflSn. "And some of them I hnow will cry for 
water," observes a violet sadly. "And if they do, I 
wish I had wings, for I'd fly to every one of them," 
exclaims the brooklet. "We know you would, sweet- 
heart," reply violet and spring beauty to their light- 
hearted companion of the solitude. "And if one of 
them dies under me, I'll toll every bell that hangs 
in my outstretched, blooming branches," declares a 
giant huckleberry-bush warmly. "But hush! hushT* 
cries the bush, "here they come!"^ 



VI 



And now let us take a quick survey of what had gone 
on meanwhile in Lee's lines. Lee himself with a 
blithe heart had breakfasted early at his camp near 
Verdierville on the Plank Road. At eight o'clock the 
night before, he had sent this despatch to Ewell 
through his Adjutant-General, Taylor: "He wishes 
you to be ready to move early in the morning. If 
the enemy moves down the river (that is, toward 
Fredericksburg) he wishes to push on after him. If 
he comes this way, we will take our old line [that is, 
the one of the autumn before at Mine Run]. The 
general's desire is to bring him to battle as soon now 
as possible." 

The reason for bringing Grant to battle at once 
may have been strengthened by a despatch that he 
had received from Longstreet during the forenoon, 
in response to one he had sent him as to Grant's 
movements. "I fear," says Longstreet, "that the 
enemy is trying to draw us down to Fredericksburg, 
Can't we threaten his rear so as to stop his move? 
We should keep away from there unless we can put 
a force to hold every force at West Point in check." 
Longstreet doubtless had in mind the possibility of 
Butler's command, then organized at Fort Munroe, 
being carried to the mouth of the Pamunkey. 



COUNTRY SOUTH 
OF THE 

RAPPAHANNOCK 




THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 145 

Heth and Wilcox, who had bivouacked on the 
Plank Road, the former this side of Lee, the latter 
beyond, were setting out leisurely for Parker's store. 
Anderson's, Hill's other division, was still back on 
the upper side of the Rapidan, the other side of 
Orange Court House, but under orders to come for- 
ward. Ramseur of Rodes's division, Ewell's corps, 
who with his own brigade and three regiments of 
Pegram's had been left to resist any crossing between 
Rapidan station and Mitchell's ford, was making 
a reconnoissance toward Culpeper, so completely 
had his old West Point friend Custer bluffed him all 
through the afternoon while we were moving. 

Longstreet, having marched from four o'clock of 
the previous day and a good share of the night, was 
now at Brock's Bridge over the North Anna and 
already under way again. Stuart, Rosser, and Fitz 
Lee were assembling their cavalry beyond Craig's 
Meeting House, — at least twenty odd miles from 
Hamilton's Crossing, where the general orders of 
the night before had placed them. R. D. Johnston's 
brigade of Ewell's corps which had lately been sent 
to guard the bridges over the North and South 
Anna were on their way back stepping fast: they 
claim they made the march of 66 miles in 23 hours, 
but I don't believe it. That kind of time can be 
made going from a fight but not to it. 

When dawn came on, it found Ewell's corps arous- 
ing; all of his troops save Rodes and Ramseur were 



146 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

along the Pike, Edward Johnson's division in ad- 
vance and within a few miles of GriflSn. The First 
North Carolina cavalry, whom Wilson had scattered 
away from Germanna Ford in the morning, by 
dusk had re-collected and gone on picket ahead and 
around E well's infantry; and just after sunrise they 
began feeling their way down the Pike, toward 
Warren. If they had held back a while. Griffin's 
pickets would all have been withdrawn to rejoin the 
moving column, and Ewell could have sprung on 
Warren most viciously. 

Major Stiles, in his "Four Years under Marse 
Robert," a book of living interest, gives us a glimpse 
of the early morning up the Pike. He says: "I found 
him [General Ewell] crouching over a low fire at a 
cross roads in the forest, no one at the time being 
nigh except two horses, and a courier who had 
charge of them, and the two crutches. The old hero, 
who had lost a leg in battle, could not mount his 
horse alone. The general was usually very thin and 
pale, unusually so that morning, but bright-eyed and 
alert. He was accustomed to ride a flea-bitten gray 
named Rifle, who was singularly like him, if a horse 
can be like a man. He asked me to dismount and take 
a cup of coffee with him." Ewell told the major, 
while they were drinking their coffee, that his orders 
were to go right down the road and "strike the 
enemy wherever I could find him." 

About eight a. m., after his corps was moving. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 147 

Ewell sent Major Campbell Brown of his staff to 
report his position to General Lee. Lee sent word 
back for him to regulate his march down the Pike by 
that of Hill on the Plank Road, whose progress he 
could tell by the firing at the head of his column; and 
that he preferred not to bring on a general engage- 
ment before Longstreet came up. Either Colonel 
Taylor had misunderstood Lee, or Lee for some rea- 
son had changed his mind. Had he not done so and 
tried to put his plans of the night before in execution, 
another story would certainly have been written 
of the campaign. Hancock would have been stopped 
long before he had made Todd's Tavern, and his 
corps would have been swung over into the Brock 
Road, which would have effectually stalled off Hill. 
And although Ewell might at first have staggered 
Warren and Sedgwick, he never could have driven 
them from the ridge east of Wilderness Run where 
they would have been rallied; for Hunt would have 
had it lined with artillery, and it would have been 
another Cemetery Ridge for the Confederate in- 
fantry. That the chances of war are fickle, I own, 
but I sincerely believe that if Lee had struck at us 
early that morning he would have suffered a terrible 
defeat before sundown, and, instead of the blithe 
heart at sunrise, when twilight came on he would 
have carried a heavy one. For Mahone, Anderson, 
Ramseur, Johnston, and Longstreet would have been 
beyond reach to give a helping hand to Ewell and 



148 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Hill. So I am inclined to think that Colonel Taylor 
misunderstood Lee : which in a measure is confirmed 
by his moves that morning, all pointing to a manifest 
desire not to precipitate a general engagement. For 
does any one suppose that Hammond's five hundred 
men could have held Hill's veterans back had they 
known that Lee wanted them to go ahead? Strangely 
and interestingly enough, Lee's chances, owing to 
changing his mind, were growing better and better 
the farther and farther away Hancock and Wilson 
were moving from the strategic key of the field. But 
the truth is that Lee that forenoon knew but little 
more about Grant's movements than Grant knew 
about his. 

However that may be, Ewell, after hearing from 
Lee, regulated his march accordingly, slowing up 
Jones, of Johnson's division, who was in the lead, 
and who had felt GriflBn's and Wadsworth's videttes 
south of the Pike, having pushed the latter nearly 
to the western branch of Wilderness Run. When he 
got to the Flat Run Road which crosses the Pike 
diagonally, as will be seen by consulting the map, 
Ewell sent the Stonewall brigade (James A. Walker, 
who must not be confounded with Henry H. Walker 
of Hill's corps) down it to the left. Soon, through his 
field-glasses, from one of the ridges that straggle 
across the Pike just this side of its intersection by 
the Flat Run Road, he caught sight of Getty threading 
his way up across the leaning field east of Wilderness 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 149 

Run, Thereupon he halted Jones and sent Colonel 
Pendleton of his staff to report his position to Lee 
and ask instructions; and no doubt Pendleton told 
Lee about the column of troops seen moving toward 
the junction of the Brock and Plank roads. While 
Pendleton was away, and our people showing more 
and more activity and earnestness, Johnson, com- 
manding Ewell's leading division, began to arrange 
his brigades in line as they came up. 

Now in those days there was an old field (it has 
since grown up) about five-eighths of a mile east of 
the crossing of the Pike by the Flat Run Road. It 
was narrow, deserted, occupying a depression be- 
tween two irregular ridges, and extended both sides 
of the Pike which crossed it a little diagonally nearer 
its southern end. The east and west sides sloped 
down to a gully in the middle, the scored-out bed 
of a once trembling primeval wood-stream; in its 
palmy days the Pike crossed it on a wooden bridge. 
The field was known as the Saunders or Palmer field, 
and was about eight hundred yards long north and 
south, and four hundred yards wide. It was about 
the only open, sunshiny spot along the four and a 
half to seven or eight miles of our battle-line, if we 
include Hancock's entrenchments down the Brock 
Road. The last crop of the old field had been corn 
and among its stubble that day were sown the seeds 
of glory. The woods were thick all around the field, 
but the ground east and north of itj in the angle 



150 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

between the Pike and the Flat Run Road was very 
broken, its low humpy ridges cradling a network of 
marshy, tangled places, the birthplace of mute lonely 
branches of Caton's Run, and everywhere crowded 
with cedars and stunted pines. In truth, I know of 
no place in the Wilderness where nature seemed 
more out of humor than right here in the making 
of it. i 

Johnson drew Jones back to the west side of the 
field, his left resting on the Pike, his line of battle 
stretching off into the woods. He posted Steuart's 
brigade on the other side of the road, then Walker's 
and then Stafford's as they came up; their fronts 
reaching from the Pike northward almost, if not 
quite, to Flat Run itself. 

Millidge's battery was posted at the junction of 
the roads. Dole and Battle were getting into posi- 
tion on the right of Jones, and coming on behind 
them was Rodes. J. B. Gordon, the eagle of Ewell's 
corps, was coming down the old Pike, ready to plunge 
wherever the smoke of battle rose. 

Lee repeated to Pendleton the same instructions 
as before, not to bring on an engagement until Long- 
street was up. Obviously Lee had greatly under- 
estimated the distance Longstreet had to cover. 
Pendleton got back to Ewell about 11.30. By that 
time Kirkland's brigade of Heth's division, Hill's 
corps, followed by Cooke, had driven Hammond 
almost to the Brock Road. Scales of Wilcox's di- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 151 

vision of the same corps was standing off Crawford, 
while Lane and Thomas were getting into position 
in front of McCandless, who was trying to connect 
with Wadsworth. Such was about the situation of 
both armies at 11.30 a. m. 

Griffin's and the right of Wadsworth's division 
formed about three-quarters of a mile east of the old 
field. In the formation for the advance, Sweitzer's 
brigade of Griffin's division had given place on the 
left of Bartlett to Cutler, of Wadsworth's division, 
and had formed in reserve behind Bartlett. On Cut- 
ler's left was Stone, then Rice. The Maryland bri- 
gade of Robinson's division was in reserve behind 
Stone and Rice. From the Pike to the left of McCand- 
less it must have been fully a mile and three-quarters, 
and all through thick woods. 

Wadsworth's brigades and their supports were or- 
dered by Warren to move by the compass due west. 
Now a compass is a trusty friend and has guided 
many a ship steadfastly and truly through darkness 
and storm on the open sea, but it is out of its element 
and worse than nothing as a guide for an army 
fighting in woods like those of the Wilderness. It 
was natural though for Warren, the skillful engineer, 
to rely upon it, but under the circumstances, and 
with the woods as they were, it was utterly impracti- 
cable. The first one hundred yards of underbrush, 
and then one of those briar-tangled ravines, and all 
reliance on the compass was gone. Self-protection, if 



152 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

nothing else, called on the regiments and brigades to 
try to keep in touch with each other, whatever the 
compass might say. As a matter of fact, only one of 
the commands was guided by it, — McCandless, who 
had the opening of the Chewning fields on his left 
to help him. But it ended in taking him away from 
everybody, and in coming mighty near to causing 
him to lose his entire brigade. For Wadsworth's peo- 
ple on McCandless's right naturally swung toward the 
Pike, thus leaving a wide gap between him and Rice. 
Well, as already stated, when they began to move, 
it was almost noon. The troops tried at first to 
advance in line of battle from the temporary works 
which had been thrown up while the reconnaissances 
and preparations had been going on; but owing to 
the character of the woods, they soon found that was 
out of the question, and had to break by battalions 
and wings into columns of fours. So by the time they 
neared the enemy, all semblance of line of battle was 
gone and there were gaps everywhere between regi- 
ments and brigades. Regiments that had started in 
the second line facing west found themselves facing 
north, deploying ahead of the first line. As an ex- 
ample of the confusion, the Sixth Wisconsin had been 
formed behind the Seventh Indiana, with orders to 
follow it at a distance of one hundred yards. By run- 
ning ahead of his regiment, the colonel of the Sixth 
managed to keep the Seventh in sight till they were 
close to the front; but when the firing began, the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 153 

Seventh set out at double-quick for the enemy and 
disappeared in a moment; and the next thing was an 
outburst of musketry and the enemy were coming 
in front and marching by both flanks. 

But there was almost the same state of affairs on 
the other side, except that the Confederates, being 
more used to the woods, observed the general direc- 
tion better and handled themselves with much more 
confidence and initiative than ours, when detached 
from their fellows. For instance, the Forty-fifth 
North Carolina, of Daniels's brigade, having lost 
all connection with the rest of its brigade, stumbled 
right on to Stone or Rice, and before they knew it 
were within a few rods, only a thickety depression 
between them. Ours were the first to fire, but the 
aim was too high and scarcely any one hurt; the 
return volley, however, so says the regiment's his- 
torian who was present, was very fatal, and our men 
broke, leaving a row of dead. Cases of this kind 
could be repeated and re-repeated of what took 
place in the Wilderness; and I am free to say that, 
as I walked through the woods last May, looking for 
the old lines, more than once I halted with a feeling 
that some spectral figure, one of those thousands 
who fell there, would appear suddenly and ask me 
where he might find his regiment. As a proof of the 
savage and unexpected encounterings, a line of 
skeletons was found just after the war, half-covered 
in the drifting leaves, where some command, North- 



154 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

ern or Southern, met with a volley like that of the 
Forty-fifth North Carolina, from an unseen foe. It 
is the holding of the secrets of butchering happenings 
like these, and its air of surprised and wild curiosity 
in whosoever penetrates the solitude and breaks its 
grim, immeasurable silence, that gives the Wilder- 
ness, I think, its deep and evoking interest. ( 

The woods being somewhat easier for Bartlett's 
troops to move through than for those in front of 
Ayres, he gained the eastern edge of the old field quite 
a little ahead. His first line no sooner came out into 
the light than Jones, from the woods on the other 
side of the field, opened on it. Our men dashed down 
to the gully and then up the sloping side at them, 
and at once became hotly engaged. As the second 
line cleared the woods, Bartlett rode galloping from 
the Pike, flourishing his sword and shouting, "Come 
on, boys, let us go in and help them." 

Meanwhile Cutler, on Bartlett's left, with his Iron 
Brigade, made up of western regiments, whose mem- 
bers were more at home in the woods than their 
brothers of the East, had gotten considerably ahead 
of Bartlett's men, and swinging more and more 
toward the Pike at every step, struck Jones's and the 
left of Dole's brigade, and, going at them with a cheer, 
smashed through, capturing three battle flags and 
several hundred prisoners. In this attack Battle's bri- 
gade directly behind Jones was so severely handled, 
also by Cutler and Bartlett, that it fell back in 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 155 

great confusion with Jones's broken regiments for 
a mile or more. Dole's right held on, and Daniels, 
moving up and going in on his left, met Stone's and 
Rice's bewildered commands, some of whom were 
really firing into each other, and soon stopped all 
their headway. 

When Ewell witnessed Jones's and Battle's over- 
throw, he hastened back to Gordon, who was just 
arriving from his bivouac beyond Locust Grove, and 
implored him to save the day. Gordon moved his 
strong brigade well to the south of the road; they 
formed quickly, and at his stirring command dashed 
at Cutler's and Bartlett's men, who, by this time, 
were in great disorder, besides having met with 
severe losses. As showing their jumble, the Seventh 
Indiana, that started on Cutler's extreme left, had 
fought its way clear round to the Pike, while the 
Sixth Wisconsin, that tried to follow it, found itself 
deep in the woods beyond one of the wandering 
branches of Wilderness Run, at least a quarter of 
a mile away from the Seventh. A company of the 
Twentieth Maine, that had started in Bartlett's sec- 
ond line, came out on the Pike a half-mile west of 
the field; and, behold, on their return, they were be- 
yond a Confederate line of battle advancing toward 
their first position. This little command, only seven- 
teen of them, now behaved so well that I think they 
deserve mention as well as the exploits of brigades 
and corps. The lieutenant, Melcher, gave the order, 



156 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

*' Every man load his rifle and follow me." Having 
drawn near the Confederates, intent under fire from 
our broken men in front, Melcher formed in single 
rank, he on the right, his first sergeant on the left, 
and taking deliberate aim, fired, and then with a 
shout charged. Their attack was a surprise and 
could only have happened in the Wilderness. With 
two killed and six wounded they fought their way 
through, using sword and bayonet, but brought off 
thirty-two prisoners which were turned over to the 
provost marshal. Suppose every company in the 
army had had oflBcers and first sergeants like that! 

Such was the state of our lines when Dole's, and 
those of Battle's and Jones's brigades that had ral- 
lied, went in with Gordon, all giving their wildest 
"rebel yell." And, reader, let me tell you I heard 
that rebel yell several times; and if you had been 
there, with the scary feeling one is apt to have in 
strange, deep woods, the chances are about even, 
I think, that your legs would have volunteered to 
carry you to the Lacy farm, or for that matter to the 
other side of the Rapidan. I mean only that that 
would have been your first feeling as you heard them 
coming on; but I dare say you would have faced the 
enemy right well. 

Well, as I have said, what was left of Rice, Stone, 
and the Maryland brigade, — all somewhat shaky, 
if not already falling back under the advance of 
Daniels, — Gordon, Dole, and Battle struck just at 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 157 

the right time, and practically sent everything flying, 
but the dead, before them. Bartlett's troops fell 
back, in great disorder, to the east of the old field and 
the works they had made in the morning; most of 
Cutler's and those on the left did not stop till they 
reached the Lacy farm. There, after great exertion. 
Wads worth, who was deeply mortified and in high 
temper, rallied them. I recall very distinctly their 
condition, for I was right among them. 
' Jones and his aide. Captain Early, a nephew of the 
distinguished Confederate General Early, were killed 
trying to rally their brigade. I happened to be at 
Grant's headquarters that afternoon or the next 
morning, just after the news of his death was received, 
and overheard some one ask, "What Jones is that?" 
Ingalls, our chief quartermaster, exclaimed with sur- 
prised regret, "Why, that is Jones, J. M.; we called 
him 'Rum' Jones at West Point." There is a stone 
on the south side of the Pike, about a mile and a 
quarter west of the old field, marking the spot where 
he fell. 

Roebling, who was coming back from Crawford, 
says in his notes: — 

"I found the little road (the Parker's store road) 
crowded with stragglers and large crowds of soldiers 
pouring out of the woods in great confusion and al- 
most panic-stricken. Some said they were flanked, 
others said they had suddenly come upon the enemy 
lying concealed in two lines of battle in the thick 



158 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

underbrush, and that our men had broken at the first 
volley. Cutler's brigade came back in good order 
bringing a number of prisoners; the 2nd Division 
Baxter's brigade came back in much less confusion." 

Mr. G. M. Woodward, adjutant of the Second 
Wisconsin of Cutler's brigade, writes me that just 
after he had given orders for the regiment to break 
ranks, and fall back to the Parker's Store Road from 
which they had moved, all the field oflScers and two 
of the captains being either killed or wounded and 
the regiment outflanked by Gordon's or Dole's coun- 
ter-charge, he concluded he would stay behind a little 
and discover, if he could, the enemy's line of advance. 
While peering around, he suddenly heard a deep bass 
voice: "Adjutant, what be I going to do with this 
flag?" Turning, he saw Davidson the color-bearer 
standing bolt upright in the woods, all alone, grasp- 
ing the flagstaff. Of course Woodward gave the 
necessary orders which the brave color-sergeant was 
waiting for, and together, under a rattling fire, they 
rejoined the regiment. 

And here, reader, let me bring in a word from my 
friend Dr. Winne, to whom you have already been 
introduced; and were you to meet him, you would 
wish that there were more in the world like him. 
"When Wadsworth's demoralized division was re- 
forming at the Lacy house," says the doctor in his 
letter to me, "I saw a wonderful example of the 
triumph of mind over matter which I have never 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 159 

forgotten; and I can almost see the boy's face yet. 
The shattered division was just moving back to the 
Hne when I noticed the youngster in his place going 
to what may have been his death, with pallid face 
and trembling lips, yet with his head erect and eyes 
to the front, going to meet Fate like a gentleman 
and soldier." I hope, and so do you, reader, that the 
boy lived through it and on into a good old age, his 
brave heart ever his cheerful companion, and beating 
proudly on every fifth of May. 

As soon as Wadsworth's men were brought into 
some kind of order, — and it only took a moment, 
for once out of the woods and where they could see 
their colors, all rallied save now and then a man whose 
heart was not made for war, — I went to the front. 
And as I reached there Bartlett was reforming, Sweit- 
zer and Robinson having relieved him and stayed 
the enemy from advancing. He had been wounded 
in the cheek, and the blood was trickling down on his 
breast. His complexion was fair and his hair very 
black, his hat was off, and I can see his bleeding face, 
as well as Griffin's deeply glum one, across all the 
years. 

So much for the engagement south of the Pike. 
Ayres, commanding Griffin's right wing on the north 
side of the road, after overcoming annoying and de- 
laying hindrances, brought his regiments into some 
sort of line just before they reached the old field, 
resting his left, the One Hundred and Fortieth New 



160 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

York, on the road. By this time Bartlett with Cutler 
had gotten across the south end of the field and had 
disappeared pursuing Jones; but Steuart's men in the 
woods on the other side of the field, the continuation 
of Jones's line, had stood fast, and with their fingers 
on the triggers were poising among the cedars, scrub- 
oaks, and young pines, watching Ayres; and as soon 
as the One Hundred and Fortieth, with their colors 
flying, came into the field, opened on them with pre- 
meditated, withering fire. The regiment, under its 
gallant yellow -haired leader, "Paddy" Ryan, charged 
down to the gully and up to the woods, losing heavily 
at every step. Receiving also a bitter cross-fire from 
their right, they swerved to the left, the color com- 
pany astride the Pike, and then at close range grap- 
pled with the enemy. The Regulars to their right, 
under a murderous fire, crossed the upper end of the 
field in perfect alignment, entered the woods, and be- 
gan an almost hand-to-hand struggle. But Walker's 
and Stafford's Confederate brigades, with nothing 
in the world to hinder, — for the Sixth Corps was 
not nearly up, — poured deadly vollies into them. 
The One Hundred and Fifty-fifth and Ninety-first 
Pennsylvania Volunteers went valiantly to their 
support. And as the Second, Eleventh, Twelfth, 
Fourteenth, and Seventeenth Regulars are advancing 
in the open field under heavy fire, let me say that a 
steady orderly march like that is what calls for fine 
courage. It is easy, my friends, to break into a wild 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 161 

cheer, and at the top of your speed be carried along 
by excitement's perilous contagion even up to the 
enemy's works. But to march on and on in the face 
of withering musketry and canister, as the Regulars 
are doing now and as Pickett's men did at Gettys- 
burg; or as the Sixth Maine, with uncapped guns, 
resolutely and silently went up to the works at 
Marye's Heights, and, by the way, carried them; or 
as I saw the colored division marching on heroically 
at the explosion of the mine at Petersburg, their 
colors falling at almost every step, but lifted again 
at once, — I say, that is a kind of courage which sets 
your heart a-beating as your eye follows their flut- 
tering colors. 

Meanwhile Griffin, to help the One Hundred and 
Fortieth to break the enemy's line, sent forward a 
section of Battery D, First New York, a move of 
great danger, — and the guns never marched with 
the Army of the Potomac again. The section, under 
Lieutenant Shelton riding a spirited chestnut and ac- 
companied by his Captain, Winslow, on a bald-faced 
brown horse, trotted down the Pike and over the 
bridge and went into action briskly; the air around 
them and over the whole field hissing with minie 
balls. In the edge of the woods, and on both sides 
of the Pike, at less than two hundred yards away, 
the One Hundred and Fortieth was fighting almost 
muzzle to muzzle with the First and Third North 
Carolina. The first and only round from the sec- 



162 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

tion crashed through the woods, ploughing its way 
among friends and foes, and instead of helping, 
made it much harder for the brave men. And just 
then, too, — the One Hundred and Fortieth dreading 
another round every moment, — on came Battle's 
and Dole's rallied brigades against their left. Pat 
O'Rorke's brave men — who helped to save Round 
Top, the gallant Pat losing his life there — stood 
the unequal contest for a moment and then broke. 

The guns now tried to retire from a position to 
which many thought they should not have been or- 
dered. But it was too late. Ayres's second line, which 
had followed the One Hundred and Fortieth and the 
Regulars with strong hearts, had been suffering at 
every step by the bitter and continuous cross-fire 
from their front and unprotected flank; and by the 
time they had reached the farther side of the field were 
so mowed down that they could save neither the day 
nor the guns. The One Hundred and Forty-sixth of 
this second line reached the gully as the guns tried 
to withdraw, but was completely repulsed, and many 
of them made prisoners. Their horses being killed 
and officers wounded or captured, and the enemy 
on top of them, the sun-sparkling guns fell into 
the hands of the enemy. The brave Shelton was 
wounded and made a prisoner, his proud chestnut 
was killed. 

It was at this juncture that, pursued by Gordon's, 
Dole's, and Battle's brigades, back came Bartlett's 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 163 

men, almost in a panic. They rushed into the field 
and actually ran over the North Carolinians about 
the guns, many of whom had taken refuge in the 
gully. The Sixty-first Alabama, of Battle's brigade, 
was so close behind our people that they hoisted 
their colors on the pieces and claimed their capture, 
till the North Carolinians emerged from the gully 
and said No! 

By this time Regulars and Volunteers were driven 
back with heavy loss to the east side of the field. 

The victorious Confederates could not pursue be- 
yond the guns, or even stand there, for Sweitzer's 
of Griffin's, and the First brigade of Robinson's di- 
vision, under my friend Charles L. Pierson, a gentle- 
man, together with our rallied men, now poured such 
a fire into them from the east side of the field, that 
they fled back to their lines on the edge of the 
woods. Meanwhile the gully was full of their men 
and ours, most of whom were wounded, and who did 
not dare to show themselves. 

In an attempt to recapture the guns — whose loss 
Griffin, the commander of our West Point battery 
in my day, felt deeply — the Ninth Massachusetts, 
an Irish regiment, and the Ninetieth Pennsylvania 
suffered frightfully, adding to the thickly lying dead 
in the old field. Its last year's crop, as already told, 
was corn; and sweeter by far were the rustling of 
its swaying blades and tasseling tops than the sting- 
ing flights of the bullets and the cries of the wounded. 



164 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

O! violets, innocent little houstonias, flaming aza- 
leas, broom-grass, struggling pines, cedars, oaks, 
gums, and sassafras, now dotting the field, when the 
south wind blows and the stars call out, "This is the 
fifth of May," do you break into your mellow speech 
and commemorate the boys I saw lying there beyond 
the reach of friendly hands? Yes, I know right well 
you do: and Heaven bless every one of you; and so 
says every Northern oak and elm, and so says every 
poplar and Southern pine that borders the old fields 
of home. 

The guns stood there that night and all through 
the next day, for the fire was so close and deadly 
from their lines and ours that no one could approach 
them. When Gordon broke Sedgwick's line at dusk 
the following night, to the right of the Sixth Corps, 
the enemy availed themselves of our confusion to 
draw them off. 

On the repulse of GriflSn and Wadsworth, Craw- 
ford was drawn well down on the Parker's Store Road 
and began to entrench. Thus by half -past one War- 
ren's corps had been thrown back with heavy loss; 
and all because the Sixth Corps had not been able to 
connect with it. Upton's troops did not get abreast 
of Ayres's bleeding brigade till three o'clock, and 
the ground where they had fought had burned over. 
He drove the enemy from an advanced position — 
for no one in the Army of the Potomac had greater 
courage or more soldierly abilities than Upton — and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 165 

then entrenched. In front and behind his lines were 
many scorched and burned bodies of our men and of 
the Second, Tenth, Fourteenth, and Sixteenth regi- 
ments of Stafford's Confederate brigade, who, with 
James A. Walker's, enveloped the right flank of the 
Regulars. 

Brown's and Russell's brigades of the Sixth Corps, 
on Upton's right, greatly impeded as he had been in 
their advance through the scrub-oaks, saplings of all 
kinds, and intermingling underbrush, came in con- 
flict with Early's division, which, after the repulse 
of Griffin, had been pushed well out on Johnson's 
left, and, under Hays, Stafford, and Pegram, was ad- 
vancing between Flat Run and the road of that name. 
Russell, on the right, gave them a sudden and severe 
check, capturing almost entire the Twenty-fifth Vir- 
ginia of Jones's brigade, which after regaining its 
hope and courage had been moved to the left. In 
this engagement, or subsequent ones, for fighting was 
kept up on and off till dark, Stafford was killed and 
Pegram severely wounded. 

As soon as they had driven us back on Griffin's 
front, the enemy began to strengthen their entrench- 
ments and brought guns down to their line. Our men 
did likewise; so, besides musketry, the field was swept 
with canister, for they were only four hundred yards 
apart; off on the right, in Sedgwick's front, the lines 
in some places were within pistol-shot of each other. 

The woods on the Confederate side got on fire and 



166 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

burned widely. "Suddenly, to the horror of the liv- 
ing," wrote a member of the Seventh Indiana who 
was lying along the Pike, wounded, about where 
Jones was killed, "fire was seen creeping over the 
ground, fed by dead leaves which were thick. All 
who could move tried to get beyond the Pike, which 
the fire could not cross. Some were overtaken by 
the flames when they had crawled but a few feet, 
and some when they had almost reached the road. 
The ground, which had been strewn with dead and 
wounded, was in a few hours blackened, with no dis- 
tinguishable figure upon it." 

Some time after his repulse. Griffin, in miserable 
humor, rode back to Meade's headquarters, and in 
the course of his interview allowed his feelings to get 
away with him, exclaiming in the hearing of every 
one around that he had driven Ewell three-quarters 
of a mile, but had had no support on his flanks. Then, 
boiling still higher, he censured Wright of the Sixth 
Corps for not coming to his aid, and even blurted out 
something so mutinous about Warren, that Grant 
asked Meade, "Who is this General Gregg? You 
ought to arrest him." Meade, however, kept his tem- 
per and said soothingly, "It's Griffin, not Gregg, 
and it's only his way of talking." This flurry of Grif- 
fin's was a part of the aftermath of the delusion that 
Lee would not take the offensive; but in view of all 
the near and remote consequences of that delusion, 
the most of which are obvious, it is but a wisp. There 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 167 

is nothing in the campaign which approaches the in- 
terest which that delusion has for me. Sometimes 
as I ponder over it, I think I hear voices near and yet 
far away, and something within tells me that they 
are chanting one of Fate's old and weird melodies, — 
and then all is still. 

It seems probable, with what we know now of the 
situation, that, if Griffin had not been sent forward 
till Upton had joined him, Ewell would have been 
driven far away from where Major Stiles found him 
boiling his coffee. And I wonder where he would have 
boiled it the next morning: possibly far back on the 
banks of Mine Run, or, more likely, on the head- 
waters of one of the streams bearing off to the North 
Anna, for Lee would have had to fall back in that 
direction till he met Longstreet. Wherever he may 
have breakfasted, for me Ewell has always been an 
interesting character. Major Stiles tells us that he 
was a great cook. "I remember on one occasion later 
in the war," says the major, "I met him in the outer 
defenses of Richmond, and he told me some one had 
sent him a turkey-leg which he was going to 'devil'; 
that he was strong in that particular dish; that his 
staff would be away, and I must come around that 
evening and share it with him." The major had a 
part of the deviled turkey-leg and a happy evening 
with the general. It was this same grim, kind-hearted 
old Ewell who reported that Stonewall Jackson once 
told him that he could not eat black pepper because 



168 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

it gave him rheumatism in one of his legs ! It would 
have been well for soldiers in Banks's army if Stone- 
wall had "unbeknownst" eaten some black pepper 
before he got after them in '62; it might have saved 
them a part, at least, of that awfully hot chase back 
to the Potomac. 

They say that Ewell looked very sad as he sat 
before a camp-fire the night he was captured at Sail- 
or's Creek, a few days before Lee surrendered. 

And now let us turn from Warren, Griffin, and 
Sedgwick, to Getty, who reached the junction of the 
Brock and Plank roads about the very hour when 
Warren began his attack. That historic point might, 
not only for the sake of the services they rendered 
that day, but for services on many other fields, be 
called Getty's or Hammond's Crossing. Perhaps a 
descriptive word or two as to its adjacent natural 
features will aid the reader to see — and I wish he 
might hear, also — the stirring events that took place 
there; for I believe that no crossing of country roads 
on this continent ever heard, or perhaps ever will 
hear, such volleys. 

The roads, the ground of their low banks a dull 
brick-red, cross each other at a right angle in the 
midst of dense, silent woods which are chiefly oaks, 
medium-sized, shaggy and surly, the ground beneath 
them heavily set with underbrush. The Brock then 
bears on south some four miles, through whippoor- 
will-haunted woods, to Todd's Tavern, and thence 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 169 

on through woods again to Spotsylvania. About 
half-way between the junction and Todd's Tavern, 
the Brock is intersected by a narrow-gauge railroad 
which runs from Orange Court House to Fredericks- 
burg. Having reached Parker's store on its way east 
from Orange Court House, the railway swings off 
southerly from the Plank with a long curve, till it 
comes to the Brock, and then darts across it. When 
the war came on, its narrow location had just been 
cleared through the woods, and the roadbed graded. 
It will be seen in due time what use Longstreet made 
of this roadbed; how his flanking column under the 
handsome and gallant Sorrel formed there and swept 
everything before it to the Plank Road as he charged 
due northward through the woods, gray and pun- 
gent with the smoke of battle and burning leaves. 
From the junction west to Parker's store is about 
two and a half miles, and east to where Jackson 
met his fatal volley on the battle-field of Chancel- 
lorsville is less than a half-h,our's rapid walk. 

The spring-head of the most easterly branch of 
Wilderness Run crosses the Brock a third or a half 
mile north of the junction. Over dead leaves and 
dead limbs and around low tussocks, crowned when 
I saw them last with blooming cowslips, the darkish 
water comes stealing out of the gloomy woods on 
the east side of the road, glints at the sun, and 
then disappears in those to the west. This branch 
soon spreads into a zigzagging morass falling in 



170 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

with others Hke it which head near the Plank Road 
and creep northward, separated by low, tortuous, 
broken ridges, the dying-away of the heaving pla- 
teau that sweeps around from Chewning's. The 
waters of all of them unite at last in Wilderness 
Run. In these shallow depressions bamboo-like vines 
abound, tangling all the bushes, but here and there 
is an azalea amongst them, and, when the battle was 
going on, dogwoods were in bloom along their banks 
and on the ridges between them. These alternating 
ridges and swampy interlaced thickets twill the coun- 
try, that lies inclined like a canted trough in the angle 
between the Brock Road and the Plank. It was the 
scene of very, very bitter fighting, and there many 
men of both armies were lost. 

The ground on the south side of the Plank is gently 
wavy, and about its junction with the Brock may be 
called dry, level, and firm; but in less than a mile to 
the west, low ridges are met with like those on the 
north side, between which are thickety morasses 
again; but they drain off southward into aflfluents of 
Jackson's Run, one of whose branches is a compan- 
ion of the Brock Road for a while. These waters 
saunter their way into the Po and Ny and then on at 
last into the Pamunkey, while those in the morasses 
on the north side of the Plank flow into the Rapidan 
and then into the Rappahannock. The land gener- 
ally, however, is higher on the south than on the 
north side of the road, and not nearly so broken; 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 171 

but on either side one can barely see a man thirty 
yards away. 

About a mile and three-quarters west of the junc- 
tion the Plank emerges from the glooming woods into 
a clearing of twenty or thirty acres; it is a very quiet 
spot, and over the most of it the broom-grass is wav- 
ing. The northern edge of this humble little estate 
follows the abrupt, bulging descents of the Chewning 
circular ridge which encloses the basin of Wilderness 
Run. It is the Widow Tapp's place; her small house, 
with companion corn-crib and log stable, stand 
several hundred yards from the road and partly 
masked by meagre plum and cherry trees. In this 
old dun clearing Lee made his headquarters during 
a part of the struggle, and by the roadside just at the 
border of the woods is the stone with, "Lee to the 
rear, say the Texans," inscribed upon it. 

Getty's leading brigade, Wheaton's, on the run, 
as already recorded, reached the Plank Road by 
noon, and with all haste deployed astride it, the 
Ninety-third Pennsylvania on the left, the One 
Hundred and Thirty-ninth Pennsylvania on the 
right, and succeeded, after losing quite a number 
of men, in checking Heth's advance. As fast as the 
other brigades of the division came up, they were 
formed in two lines, Eustis on the right of Wheaton, 
and the ever-gallant Vermont brigade under Lewis 
A. Grant on the left. Learning from prisoners that 
he was confronted by two of Hill's divisions, Heth's 



172 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and Wilcox's, Getty immediately began to throw up 
breastworks along the Brock Road, to the right 
and left of the junction. While thus engaged, his 
troops skirmishing briskly along their entire front, 
Hancock, preceding his corps at a fast gallop, reined 
up before him, looking the soldier through and 
through, — and I can see his high-headed and high- 
withered sorrel, with nostrils expanded and pride in 
his mien that he had brought his gallant rider to 
the scene of action. 

It took but a moment for Getty to make the sit- 
uation clear to Hancock, whose animated face that 
morning, and every morning, was handsomely stern 
with a natural nobility of manner and an atmo- 
sphere of magnanimity about him. It was then after 
one o'clock, and by this time, although unknown to 
Getty, Warren's repulse was almost complete. Han- 
cock at once sent his staff-officers back, directing di- 
vision and brigade commanders to hurry the troops 
forward with all possible speed. His martial and 
intense spirit so imbued his corps, and his relations 
with it were of such a personal character, that his 
fervor in the face of the threatening situation was 
communicated hke a bugle-call to the entire column. 
But on account of the road being blocked by the 
trains and artillery, the men were greatly impeded 
in their march. About half-past two, Birney's, Han- 
cock's leading division, bore in sight, and under 
orders formed hurriedly on Getty's left, continuing 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 173 

the latter's line of entrenchments so as to be ready if 
Hill should come on, which was momentarily expected 
by Getty. 

And so, as one after another of his perspiring 
divisions closed up, each formed on the other's left 
and entrenched: Birney, Mott, then Gibbon, and 
last Barlow, whose division was thrown forward of 
the Brock Road on some high, clear ground which 
commanded an immediate sweep of country; and 
there, save two batteries, Dow's and Ricketts's, all 
the artillery of the corps was massed. Barlow's line 
then bowed eastward across the Brock Road, not far 
from where the railway crosses it. 

Meanwhile Warren's repulse had made headquar- 
ters very anxious, and as early as half-past one, or- 
ders suggesting an advance had been sent to Getty. 
But, believing that Heth and Wilcox were both in 
front of him, and evidently in no mood to yield, and 
Hancock's men almost at hand, he used his discre- 
tion and waited for their coming, his understanding 
with Hancock being that, as soon as he was ready, 
they should go forward. In harmony with this un- 
derstanding, on Birney's arrival, Getty withdrew 
Eustis into reserve, moved Wheaton to the north 
side of the Plank Road, and Lewis H. Grant by flank 
till his right rested on it. Both brigades, save their 
heavy skirmish lines, were on the Brock Road behind 
their temporary works. 

Birney's and Mott's divisions, as soon as their tire- 



174 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

some march was over, began, by Hancock's orders, to 
throw up a continuation of Getty's breastworks along 
the west side of the road. The old works, now sunk 
to low, flattened ridges, and covered with bushes 
and saplings, some of which are quite large, seem 
almost endless as you travel the lonely road to 
Todd's Tavern. 

The news from Griffin's front growing more and 
more disturbing, Humphreys, Meade's chief of staff, 
at a quarter after two reported the serious results to 
Hancock, who in reply said that two of his divisions, 
Birney's and Mott's, in conjunction with Getty, 
would make an attack as soon as they could get ready. 
This was not the response headquarters had hoped 
for, but that he would spring to the attack; for the 
situation demanded it. Minutes followed minutes, 
worser and worser came the news from Warren, 
and not a sound from Hancock's and Getty's guns. 
Meade could stand it no longer and sent Colonel 
Lyman of his staff with a peremptory order to Getty 
to attack at once, with or without Hancock. It was 
the same kind of an order in terms and spirit which 
had sent Griffin ahead without knowing whether 
Upton was ready to help him. 

Humphreys, in confirming Meade's orders to Han- 
cock to attack, directed him to support Getty with 
a division on his right and another on his left, 
"but the attack up the Plank Road must be made 
at once." Accordingly Hancock ordered Birney to 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 175 

send one of his brigades, Hays's to Getty's right. 
Hays, that very gallant man, moved as fast as he 
could up the Brock Road past the junction, but 
Getty, having caught the spirit of his orders and 
knowing that he could not wait for any shifting of 
Hancock's troops, had given the command forward; 
and before Hays reached his position his men had 
cleared their works and were desperately engaged. It 
was then 4.15 p. m. 



VII 

And now, having established our forces at the junc- 
tion, let us go back and establish theirs; let us go to 
where Lee had bivouacked in the woods near Mrs. 
Rodes's, and follow the train of events which, as the 
day progressed, had put Heth ready to plunge at 
Getty; for, as a matter of fact, he was just about to 
take the ofiFensive when Getty struck at him. The 
sun rose that morning at 4.48, — I saw it come up, 
a deep poppy red, — and by the time it started to 
clear the tree-tops, Lee was breakfasting and his 
trusty, heavily-built, iron-gray horse. Traveller, 
stood saddled, ready for him to mount. Lee was 
fifty odd years old, about six feet tall, nobly hand- 
some, unmistakably dignified and reserved, his gray 
trimmed beard darkening as it mounted his sub- 
duedly ruddy cheeks, and his enlightened, dauntless 
eyes, a warm brown hazel. As has been said before, 
he was very cheerful while he breakfasted with his 
staff. It may be interesting to know that it was 
his habit in the field not to loiter at the table, but 
to leave it early, so that his young and light-hearted 
friends might enjoy its freedom. He conveyed the 
impression to all of them that morning — how a reli- 
ant spirit in a commander spreads through his staff! 
— that at heart he was looking forward to a victory 
over Grant.- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 177 

The troops of his small, punctilious, courageous, 
and mysteriously impressive Third Corps commander 
A. P. Hill, who had been with him on so many fields, 
were just moving, and "Jeb" Stuart, his buoyant 
and reliable cavalry leader who had bivouacked that 
night in rear of the picket-reserve and some distance 
beyond the infantry, and, according to his biographer, 
Major McClellan of his staff, was conducting the 
advance of Hill's corps. 

There are no two of the Confederate generals who 
are more vitally interesting to me than Stuart and 
Hill, although I never saw either of them that I know 
of; they may, however, have visited West Point and 
passed unnoticed in the stream of young and old 
officers who were coming and going to their Alma 
Mater when I was there. But, however it may 
have been, everything I hear or read of Stuart is ac- 
companied with a sense of nearness: I catch sight 
of his fine features, his manly figure, his dazzling, 
boyish blue eyes, his flowing, brownly auburn beard, 
and hear his voice ringing with either command or 
glee. It is said that rarely was his camp-fire lit 
that he did not make it joyous, his voice leading in 
chorus and song. And now the mystic bugles of his 
troopers are sounding taps from the Rapidan to the 
James in his old camps, and, hark! as they die 
away, *'Jeb" is still singing on, for woods and fields 
and running streams all love the memory of a happy 
heart. 



178 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Nature made him a cavalry leader by instinct, and 
a very sweet character. All of his old army and West 
Point friends never wearied in testifying to their 
affection for him. He met his mortal wound just a 
week after the morning we are dealing with. W^hen 
told that death was very near he asked that the 
"Rock of Ages, cleft for me," might be sung, and 
with his failing breath joined as they sang around his 
bed. When in the field he always wore a yellow cav- 
alry sash, and a felt hat with a black plume. 

Why Hill has been so interesting is perhaps be- 
cause there is always something very keen to me in 
the courteous dignity, care of personal appearance, 
and a certain guarded self-control, of oflScers who 
are small in stature, but naturally "military," and 
whose lives and movements are in harmony with all 
forms of military etiquette. They say he was quiet 
in manner, but when aroused and angered, was hard 
to appease. He wore his coal-black hair rather long, 
and his face was bearded, his eyes rather sunken, and 
his voice sharp and stern. But what kindles an en- 
during, historic light about him is that, when both 
Stonewall Jackson and Lee were dying, he, this little, 
punctilious, courteous soldier, was in their misting 
vision. Stonewall said, as he was fading away, "Tell 
A. P. Hill to prepare for action "; Lee, like Stonewall, 
was back on the field and murmured, "Tell A. P. 
Hill he must come up." Well, well, flowers of Vir- 
ginia! go on blooming and blooming sweetly, too. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 179 

by the grave of each of them as this narrative wends 
its way. 

Kirkland's brigade of North Carolinians of Heth's 
division was in front that morning, and moved leis- 
urely; for Hill had had the same instructions as Ewell, 
to develop our lines but not to bring on a general 
battle till Longstreet should overtake them. "Never 
did a regiment march more proudly and deter- 
minedly than the Twenty-sixth North Carolina as 
it headed the column for the battle of the Wilderness. 
We passed General Lee and his stafiF." So says its 
historian. 

It was the same regiment that charged at Gettys- 
burg and lost so heavily on the first day, led by those 
two fine young men, Burgwyn and "Rip" McCreery, 
both of whom lost their lives. I wonder if, for the 
sake of boyhood's memories which I shared with 
McCreery at West Point, the reader will consent to 
allow the current of events to eddy for a moment 
around him and Burgwyn. At Gettysburg their regi- 
ment, the Twenty-sixth, waiting for the command, 
"Forward," was lying down in the edge of the 
wheat-field that waved up to McPherson's woods. 

After a while Burgwyn, spare, refinedly and deli- 
cately handsome, gave the long-waited -for com- 
mand, "Attention!" The lines sprang to their feet, 
the color-bearer stepped out four paces to the front, 
and at the command, "Forward!" the regiment, 
eight hundred strong, moved resolutely across the 



180 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

field toward our men, who were standing partially 
protected by a stone wall. The engagement soon be- 
came desperate, and after the colors of the Twenty- 
sixth had been cut down ten times, McCreery seized 
them and, waving them aloft, led on; but within a 
few paces he was shot through the heart, and his 
Virginia blood gushed out, drenching the colors. 
Burgwyn took them from McCreery 's flaccid hand, 
— and again I see that thin, nervous hand sweeping 
the holy air of the chapel in impassioned gesture as 
he delivers his Fourth of July oration, — a moment 
later a minnie ball goes tearing through Burgwyn's 
lungs, and, as he falls, swirling, the flag wraps about 
him. The lieutenant-colonel of the regiment kneels 
by his side and asks, "Are you severely hurt, dear 
colonel?" He could not speak, but pressed his 
friend's hand softly and soon passed away. 

The Twenty-sixth, with its gallantly commanded 
Confederate brigade, finally carried the position ; and 
it adds interest and, I am sure, stirs a feeling of pride 
in every Northern breast, that the Twenty-sixth's 
worthy opponent that day at Gettysburg was the 
Twenty-fourth Michigan, now present in the Wilder- 
ness, whose exploit of capturing the colors of the 
Forty-eighth Virginia has already been given. Nine 
oflicers and men carried the flag of that Michigan 
regiment during the action at Gettysburg; four 
of them and all the color-guard were killed. The 
Twenty-fourth was from the shores of lakes Erie 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 181 

and Huron, the Twenty-sixth from the slopes of the 
mountains of western North CaroHna. In one of the 
North Carohna companies there were three sets of 
twins, and, when the battle was over, five of the six 
were lying dead with Burgwyn and "Rip" McCreery. 
And now to go on with the narrative, Kirkland's 
brigade was followed by Cooke's, also made up en- 
tirely of North Carolinians, and then came Walker's 
and Davis's brigades, the latter from Mississippi, 
the former from Virginia. Wilcox with his division 
followed Heth. While Ewell was marshaling rather 
cautiously in front of GriflSn, Heth kept on slowly 
down the Plank Road, and every once in a while 
from the southwest came the boom of Wilson's guns, 
who, three or four miles away, on the Catharpin 
Road, was already engaging Rosser right valiantly. 
At last Heth was in reach of the Brock Road, but 
Wheaton's sudden appearance put a new aspect on 
affairs, Kirkland pushed his skirmish line hard up, 
and Wheaton not budging, Heth notified Hill that 
he had reason to believe a strong force was in his 
front. Before this news could reach headquarters, 
Lee, his mind being wholly taken up with what had 
just happened on Ewell's front, namely, the over- 
throw of Jones's and Battle's brigades and the sav- 
age fighting inaugurated on the Pike, had ordered 
Wilcox to move toward the danger-point. Wilcox 
left McGowan and Scales to look after Crawford, and 
pressed northward through the woods with his other 



182 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

brigades, Lane's and Thomas's. Riding ahead of his 
troops, he found Gordon, and had barely spoken to 
him when a volley broke from where he had left his 
men. The musketry he heard was between his people 
and McCandless, who, having failed to make any 
connection with Wadsworth, was moving forward by 
compass, and, as it proved, right into the arms of 
Wilcox's two brigades, which very soon disposed of 
him, capturing almost entire the Seventh Pennsyl- 
vania. This case illustrates well the chance collisions 
which marked the fighting in the Wilderness, owing 
to the density of the woods. 

After Warren's repulse, Sedgwick not threatening 
seriously, Ewell having entrenched himself firmly and 
apparently safely before both of them, Lee gave at- 
tention to the news sent by Heth in regard to our 
stubborn lines at the junction, and about half -past 
three he sent this message to him by Colonel Mar- 
shall, his chief of staff: "General Lee directs me to 
say that it is very important for him to have posses- 
sion of Brock Road, and wishes you to take that po- 
sition, provided you can do so without bringing on 
a general engagement." 

And here let me make this comment on Lee's mes- 
sage. All authorities agree that his orders in every 
case to those in front that day were qualified by the 
caution not to bring on a general engagement. Or- 
ders of this kind are embarrassing; for a corps or di- 
vision commander never knows how far to push his 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 183 

successes. Their evils had a good illustration at Get- 
tysburg. There Lee used identically the same lan- 
guage on the first day ; and when Trimble urged Ewell 
to take advantage of the complete overthrow of our 
First Corps and follow up our disordered troops and 
seize the Cemetery Ridge, he replied that he had or- 
ders from Lee not to bring on a general engagement. 
Lee's indeterminate, and therefore hampering orders, 
I believe, lost him the battle of Gettysburg. 

Heth replied in effect that the only way to find out 
whether it would bring on a general engagement was 
to make the attempt; and while Marshall returned 
for a reply, he formed his division across the Plank 
Road in line of battle, ready to go ahead if that should 
be the command. Cooke's brigade was in the centre, 
the Fifteenth and Forty-sixth on the right, the Twenty- 
seventh and Forty-eighth North Carolina on the left 
of the road. Davis's brigade, made up of the Second, 
Eleventh, and Forty-second Mississippi, and the 
Fifty-fifth North Carolina, was on Cooke's left. 
Walker was on the latter's right, Kirkland in reserve. 
The line on which Heth's troops were formed had 
not been chosen for the special advantages of defense 
it offered, but rather by chance, for he expected to 
be the assailant. A better one, however, as it turned 
out, could not have been selected. It conformed to 
the low, waving ridges between the morasses, offer- 
ing splendid standing ground, and was almost invis- 
ible until within forty or fifty yards. Ready to go 



184 THE BATTLE OF THE WH^DERNESS 

ahead or ready to hold, there they were when the 
quick, sharp, cracking fire of the skirmish-line told 
them that the Union's defenders were coming. 

Now let us turn to Getty: it is about half after 
four, — that hour when the elms in the northern 
meadows were beginning to lengthen, the cows to 
feed toward the bars, the thrushes, in the thickets 
where the dog-tooth violet and the liverwort bloom, 
to strike their first clear ringing notes, and the benig- 
nant serenity of the day's old age to spread over 
fields and flock-nibbled pastures. It was then that 
the men from the North, from Pennsylvania, New 
York, and far-away Vermont, heard the expected 
order to advance. As they leap over the breast- 
works, for a moment the scarlet in their colors splash 
among the fresh green leaves in the edge of the 
woods, but almost in the twinkling of an eye, the 
lines of men in blue, the guns, and the rippling flags, 
disappear. Soon crash after crash is heard, cheers, 
volleys, and more wild cheers, and in a little while 
gray smoke begins to sift up through the tree- tops; 
and in a little while, too, pale, bleeding fellows, limp- 
ing or holding a shattered arm, some supported by 
comrades, others borne on litters^ begin to stream 
out of the woods. ' x > 

Getty, the cool, intellectually broad-based man, 
moved forward with his men; between him and them 
and immediately in front of him was a section (two 
guns) of Ricketts's Pennsylvania battery. Within 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 185 

less than a half-mile his troops had met Heth's al- 
most face to face, and in the lengthening shadows 
they plunged at each other. Wheaton's men on the 
north side of the road encountered half of Cooke's 
and all of Davis's brigade posted on the hither side 
of the tangled morasses already mentioned, and in 
some places, at not more than one hundred and fifty 
feet apart, they poured volley after volley into each 
other. And so it was on the south side with the gal- 
lant Vermonters: they, too, met the enemy face to 
face; and I have no doubt that the traveling stars 
and roaming night-winds paused and listened as the 
peaks in the Green Mountains called to each other 
that night, in tearful pride of the boys from Vermont 
who were lying under the sullen oaks of the Wilder- 
ness; for never, never had they shown more bravery 
or met with bloodier losses. 

Hays, who had been sent just as the action began 
to Getty's right, after having double-quicked to his 
position, rested for a moment and then moved for- 
ward, the Seventeenth Maine on his extreme right. 
As Davis reached far beyond Wheaton's right. Hays 
soon came up against him and joined battle at once. 
Owing to the nature of the ground, — the zigzagging 
morasses were between them, — continuous lines 
could not be maintained by either side, and the re- 
sult was that wings of regiments became separated 
from each other; but, together or apart, the fighting 
was desperate, and it is claimed that Hays's brigade 



186 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

lost more men than any other of our army in the Wil- 
derness. Hays himself (a classmate of Hancock, both 
being in the class after Grant's) during a lull rode 
down the line of battle with his staff, and when he 
reached his old regiment, the Sixty-third Pennsyl- 
vania, that had stood by him so gallantly in re- 
pulsing Pickett's charge, he stopped. While he was 
speaking a kindly word, a bullet struck him just 
above the cord of his hat, crashing into his brain; 
he fell from his horse and died within a few hours, 
and a braver spirit never rose from any field. 

When Birney sent Hays to Getty's right, he led 
his other brigade (Ward's) to Getty's left. As soon 
as Birney moved, Mott was ordered by Hancock to 
go directly forward with his two brigades from the 
Brock Road, which would bring him up on Birney's 
left. The fighting became so fierce at once and the 
musketry so deadly, that aide soon followed aide to 
Hancock, who was posted at the crossing, from Bir- 
ney, Getty, Hays, and about every brigade com- 
mander, calling for help. At 4.30 Carroll was sent 
for and ordered to support Birney, who, as soon as 
he came up, advanced him to the right of the Plank 
Road. Owens's brigade of Gibbon's division followed, 
and was put in on the left and right. Brooke, who had 
the rear of Hancock's column as they moved in the 
morning, and had been halted at Welford's Furnace 
on the road from Chancellorsville to Todd's Tavern, 
made his way as fast as he could through the woods, 



THE BATTLE OF TEE WILDERNESS 187 

his men quickening their steps as the volleys grew 
louder; he reached the Brock at 5.30 and at once 
pushed into the fight, joining Smyth of Barlow's di- 
vision, who, being nearer, had proceeded with his 
gallant Irish brigade to the line of battle to take 
the place of one of Mott's brigades that had barely 
confronted the enemy, when, receiving a couple of 
volleys at close range, panic seized it and it broke 
badly, unsteadying for a moment the troops on its 
right and left; this brigade did not stop till it 
crouched behind the breastworks it had left along 
the road, Miles's and Franks's brigades of Barlow's 
division had become engaged also. 

At an early hour in the afternoon, Williams's North 
Carolina Confederate battery of Poague's artillery 
battalion went into position between Widow Tapp's 
house and the woods, throwing little epaulements in 
front of their pieces. As soon as Heth became heavily 
engaged, Lee, who was close by, having established 
his headquarters in the old field, sent orders to Wil- 
cox to return at once to the Plank Road, — for he 
could not mistake what the volume of the musketry 
meant, — and directed Scales and McGowan in per- 
son to go to Heth's support, Crawford meanwhile 
having withdrawn from their front, to within a mile 
of the Lacy house. 

When McGowan received his orders his brigade 
had just formed in the Widow Tapp field, and the 
chaplain of the First South Carolina was holding 



188 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

prayer. And there, with the setting sun sweeping 
them, the roar of Heth's and Getty's musketry 
breaking on them, the clergyman in front of the 
ranks, their heads bowed on hands grasped one 
over the other at the muzzle of their guns, he, with 
uncovered head, palm to palm, and reverently up- 
lifted face, was praying, as the order came for 
them to go to Heth's support. The command, 
"Attention!'* rang out, the officers' swords lifted 
quickly, up went the guns, and away marched the 
brigade. 

Wilcox, on receipt of the urgent orders, set his two 
brigades, Thomas's and Lane's, in quick motion, filed 
across the Chewning farm in sight of the signal officers 
on Crawford's new line, and then took the wood- 
road — leaf-strewn and shadow-mottled — that joins 
Chewning's and Widow Tapp's, skirting the abrupt 
descents to W^ilderness Run. Through the timber, 
and over the tree-tops in the valley, he caught dis- 
tant views of Grant's headquarters and the old 
Wilderness Tavern. He caught sight, too, of Wads- 
worth moving past the Lacy house. 

Grant and Meade happened to be at Warren's 
headquarters at the Lacy house as our signal officers 
reported the march of W^ilcox's column. Grant at 
once ordered a diversion to be made by Warren 
against Heth's flank and rear, and inferring from 
Wilcox's move that Lee was detaching from Ewell, 
had ordered Warren and Sedgwick to renew the at-; 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 189 

tack on their fronts immediately. Wads worth, terri- 
bly chagrined over the conduct of his division in the 
attack up the Pike, was anxious to retrieve the re- 
putation of his troops, and asked to be sent against 
Heth. Accordingly Warren sent him and Baxter's 
brigade of Robinson's division. It was nearly six 
o'clock as he filed down across the fields, Roebling 
leading the way. 

When Wilcox reached Lee he reported to him what 
he had seen through the timber, and Lee sent the 
following despatch at once to Ewell: — 

May 5, 1864, 6 p. m. 

Lieutenant-General Ewell, 
Commanding, etc. 
General: The commanding general directs me to 
repeat a message sent you at 6 p. m. The enemy per- 
sist in their attack on General Hill's right. Several 
efforts have been repulsed, and we hold our own as 
yet. The general wishes you to hurry up Ramseur, 
send back and care for your wounded, fill up your 
ammunition, and be ready to act by light in the morn- 
ing. General Longstreet and General Anderson are 
expected up early, and unless you see some means 
of operating against their right, the general wishes 
you to be ready to support our right. It is reported 
that the enemy is massing against General Hill, and 
if an opportunity presents itself and you can get Wil- 
derness Tavern ridge and cut the enemy off from the 
river, the general wishes it done. The attack on Gen- 



190 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

eral Hill is still raging. Be ready to act as early as 
possible in the morning. 

Yours, most respectfully, 

C. Marshall, 
Lieutenant-Colonel 
and Aide-de-Camp. 

Of all the despatches in the War Records relating 
to the battle, this one has more intrinsic interest than 
any other for me. It not only coordinates the move- 
ments of Wilcox, Wadsworth, and Sedgwick, but it 
reveals at a flash the workings of the minds of both 
Grant and Lee. Let us revert to the situation, il- 
lumed by the light it throws. 

Grant and Meade, accompanied by several of their 
staffs, have come over to Warren's headquarters at 
the Lacy house. Grant is mounted on "Egypt," or 
*' Cincinnati," a black-pointed, velvety-eared, high- 
bred bay, and Meade with drooping hat, on his old 
fox-walk, "Baldy." While on the lawn under the 
same old venerable trees that are dreaming there 
still. Grant is told that a signal officer on Crawford's 
line has just seen a column of troops marching 
rapidly toward Heth, — Locke's despatch to Hurn- 
phreys confirming the news is dated 5.45 p.m.; with 
lightning speed, he catches the significance of the 
news, and moves Wadsworth to fall on Heth's flank, 
and at the same time orders Warren and Sedgwick 
to strike at once at Ewell. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 191 

Wadsworth is hardly on his way before Wilcox 
reaches Lee and tells him what he had seen through 
the timber. Lee's inferences, the converse of Grant's, 
flood in at once: Grant is weakening his line in front 
of Ewell, and, as the volleys come rolling up one after 
another from Heth and Getty, Lee tells Ewell to make 
a dash if he can for the ridge east of Wilderness Run. 

Could we have anything better than these orders 
to show the clear-sightedness, quick resolution, swift 
unhesitating grasp, and high mettle of both Grant 
and Lee? their instinctive discernment of the signifi- 
cance of the shifting phases of battle? Grant's in- 
domitable will to take advantage of them; Lee's 
warrior blood boiling with the first whiff of the smell 
of battle, and his tendency to throw his army like a 
thunderbolt out of a cloud at his adversary? And, by 
the way, that smell of battle always set Lee ablaze, 
and with his quick comprehension of the immediate 
moves to be made, augmented by the warmth of 
his fiery spirit, I think, was the source of the influence 
he shed around him as he fought a battle. 

Lee had some advantages over Grant that after- 
noon. Grant was a stranger to his army, Lee knew 
his, and his army knew him; Lee was where he could 
see the field, Grant where he could not; Lee knew 
the country well. Grant had never before entered 
its fateful labyrinth. Moreover, Lee knew what he 
wanted to do, what the fate of the Confederacy 
called on him to do, and the above despatch of 



192 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Colonel Marshall's, ringing with its resolute purpose, 
tells how he hoped to do it. 

But, but, Colonel Marshall, allow me your ear for 
a moment: there is a quiet, modest, blue-eyed, me- 
dium-sized man down on that knoll near the Lacy 
house, — cut a short vista through these pines behind 
you, and you can see where he is in the distance, 
— whom at last at Appomattox you and Lee will 
meet; and, strangely enough, the ink-bottle you are 
now using will be used then to draw the terms of 
surrender; down on the knoll is a gen tie- voiced man 
who has an undismayable heart in his breast, and 
he will meet you to-morrow morning when Long- 
street, Anderson, and Ramseur have come, and 
every morning thereafter, to the end of the Rebel- 
lion, with blow for blow. 

Wilcox's pregnant interview with Lee ended, he 
put Thomas's brigade on the left of the Plank Road, 
and, guided by the continuous roar of musketry, it 
moved forward toward Heth's battered lines. Lane's 
brigade was to form on Thomas's left, but just as 
it reached Hill, Scales, on Heth's right, was smashed, 
and Colonel Palmer of Hill's staff led it thither. 

At ten minutes of six — the sun dropping toward 
the tree-tops, and twilight, owing to the density of 
the woods, gathering fast — Lyman, who had stayed 
at Hancock's side to give Meade timely information 
as to the progress of events, reported: "We barely 
hold our own; on the right the pressure is heavy. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 193 

General Hancock thinks he can hold the Plank and 
Brock roads, but he can't advance." 

Between half -past five and six o'clock the enemy — 
McGowan's and Kirkland's brigades having come 
in to relieve Heth's exhausted troops in front of Getty 
— charged, and for a moment planted their colors 
beside one of the guns of Ricketts's section, whose 
horses had been killed. But Grant's and Wheaton's 
lines, although thrust back momentarily by the sud- 
den onslaught, braced and drove the Confederates 
away from the guns. A little later Carroll and Owens, 
Brooke, Smyth, and Miles came up, and relieved 
Grant, Wheaton, Hays, and Ward. Carroll then 
fought his way in the twilight fairly across the now 
riddled swamp, sent the Eighth Ohio up the south 
and the Seventh West Virginia up the north side of 
the road, beyond the disabled section where Captain 
Butterworth of his staff and Lieutenant McKesson 
of the Eighth, by the aid of squads from the Eighth 
Ohio and Fourteenth Indiana, dragged back the guns; 
Lieutenant McKesson receiving a severe wound. 

The battle raged on. Wheaton's men on the north, 
and the Vermonters on the other or south side of the 
road, with Ward's brigade, were still standing up to 
it, although suffering terribly. The Confederates in 
front of them had the advantage of a slight swell in 
the ground, and every attempt to dislodge them had 
met with slaughter. Birney sent a couple of regiments 
to their support. About sundown the commanding 



194 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

officer of the Fifth Vermont was asked if he thought, 
with the help of Birney's men, he could break the 
enemy's line. "I think we can," replied the stout- 
hearted man. And when Birney's men were asked 
if they would give their support, they answered, "We 
will," with a cheer. And again they went at the 
enemy's line, which partially gave way — it was 
probably Scales; but so dense were the woods that 
a break at one point had mighty little moral effect 
to the right or left, with troops as steady as theirs 
and ours. 

When Palmer got back to the road there he found 
Stuart and Colonel Venable of Lee's staff sitting on 
their horses in the dusk, and told them that Lane 
had become engaged. Venable exclaimed, "Thank 
God! I'll go back and tell Lee that Lane has gone 
in, and the lines will be held." 

Yes, and here is what he met, so says the report 
of the Sixty-sixth New York: "The rebels came 
marching by the flank, distant about ten paces. It 
being dark, they were at first taken for friends, but 
the illusion was soon dispelled, and Colonel Ham- 
mell gave the order to fire, which was promptly 
executed, with fatal effect. It proved to be the 
Seventh North Carolina." The report adds that 
they advanced again in line of battle, but were re- 
pulsed, leaving their dead and wounded. But they 
did hold the lines. 

The sun having gone down, darkness soon settled 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 195 

around them all, but the struggle did not end. Never 
was better grit shown by any troops. They could not 
see each other and their positions were disclosed only 
by the red, angry flashes of their guns. Their line 
stretched from about two-thirds of a mile north of 
the Plank Road to a distance of a mile and a half 
south of it. And so, shrouded in the smoke, and stand- 
ing or kneeling among their dead, both sides kept on. 
All other sounds having died away, the forest now at 
every discharge roared deeply. 

"All during that terrible afternoon," wrote the 
historian of the Forty-sixth North Carolina, Cooke's 
brigade, "the regiment held, its own, now gaining, 
now losing, resting at night on the ground over which 
it had fought, surrounded by the dead and wounded 
of both sides." The Fifty-fifth North Carolina in 
Davis's brigade that had fought Hays took into the 
action 340 men. At the end of the battle it is related 
in their history that "34 lay dead on the line where 
we fought, and 167 were wounded. They were on 
one side of a morass and we on the other." The his- 
torian asserts that the sergeant of the Confederate 
ambulance corps counted 157 dead Federals the fol- 
lowing day along their brigade-front. "The record 
of that day of butchery," says the same authority, 
"has often been written. A butchery pure and sim- 
ple, it was unrelieved by any of the arts of war in 
which the exercise of military skill and tact robs war 
of some of its horrors." 



196 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

"At one time during the fighting of the fifth," ac- 
cording to the historian of the Eleventh North Caro- 
hna, Kirkland's brigade, "the brigade lay down 
behind a line of dead Federals so thick as to form 
partial breastworks, showing how stubbornly they 
had fought and how severely they had suffered." 
This statement seems almost incredible, but it will 
not be forgotten that Kirkland was in reserve when 
the action began and was not called on till late, so 
that, as the brigade went in with McGowan, the men 
had a chance to see the death and destruction that 
had taken place. This brigade, out of 1753, lost 1080. 
(The night before Lee's army was forced formally 
to lay down its arms and give up its colors at Appo- 
mattox, the survivors of the Eleventh North Caro- 
lina of the above-mentioned brigade took the old flag 
which they had borne at the Wilderness, into a clump 
of young pines, and there, collecting some fagots, 
gathered sadly about it in the darkness and burned 
it.) 

At the close of the battle this regiment and all the 
other regiments of Heth's and Wilcox's divisions 
were staggering, and it is highly probable that if the 
engagement had begun an hour or so earlier, defeat 
would have overtaken them. Or, had Wadsworth 
been sent earlier, the chances are that Heth could not 
have withstood his flank attack. 

There was no engagement during the war where 
the private soldiers of the army showed greater valor 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 197 

than up the Plank Road that afternoon. Bear in 
mind that they did all their fighting amid the um- 
brage and terror of the woods, and not under the eye 
of a single general officer; not one in twenty could see 
his colors or his colonel. There was none of the in- 
spiration of an open field with stirring scenes. No, 
they fought the battle alone, their only companion 
the sense of Duty who was saying to them, to those 
obscure boys from the Green Mountains of Vermont, 
from Connecticut, Pennsylvania, New York, and 
Ohio: "Stand fast for your country, stand fast for 
the glory of the old home, for the honor of the gray- 
haired father and mother." Let garlands be given, 
too, to Heth's and Wilcox's men, and if I were the 
son of one who stood there that day under the ban- 
ner of the Confederacy, I 'd feel proud of my blood. 

At last, about eight o'clock, the volleys that had 
been so thundering and dreadful stopped almost 
suddenly. [No one who was with the Army of the 
Potomac that night will ever forget the immediate 
silence; Getty's and Birney's scarred and well-tried 
veterans were led back to the Brock Road, and 
there, beside its lonely, solemn way, they lay down 
and rested. And what is this movement of mind and 
heart .f^ It is imagination lifting the veil from the 
inner eye, and lo! we see Honor proudly standing 
guard over them all. 

Getty's division on that day and the next met with 
the heaviest loss experienced by any division during 



198 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

the war, and his Vermont brigade of this division lost 
more men on that afternoon of the fifth than the en- 
tire Second Corps. Of the officers present for duty, 
three-fourths were killed or wounded. 

There is no occurrence of the day that I remember 
with more distinctness than the setting off of Wads- 
worth's command that afternoon. I can see the men 
now moving down the field in column to the road, 
and then following it up the run for a piece toward 
Parker's store. They formed in two lines of battle 
and entered the swampy tangles, guided by Colonel 
Roebling. Their progress, trammeled by the nature 
of the woods, was slow; within a half-mile or so they 
struck the skirmishers of Thomas's brigade of W^il- 
cox's division, who had just been posted on Lleth's 
left. Wadsworth pushed them steadily back, till 
darkness came on and he had to halt. The extreme 
right of his line was now nearly at the foot of the 
abrupt slopes running down from the Widow Tapp's 
old field, his left perhaps three-quarters of a mile 
from the Brock Road. His front was parallel to the 
Plank Road, a half to five-eighths of a mile from it, 
the ground about him broken and the woods very 
dense; and there, on the dead leaves and among 
spice-bushes, spring beauties, violets and dogwoods 
in bloom, they passed the solemn night through. The 
men say, however, as well as those on Hancock's 
lines, that they were restless; their position had been 
reached practically in the dark, and they were so 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 199 

close to the enemy that both spoke in whispers, and 
all realized the inevitable renewal of the struggle in 
the morning. Roebling got back to the Lacy house, 
his most valuable notes tell me, about nine o'clock. 

When Wadsworth was moving toward Hancock, 
Russell's and Brown's brigade of the first division 
of the Sixth Corps, on the extreme right of the line 
beyond Griffin and Upton, made and received coun- 
ter and vigorous attacks on Ewell's left, the Confed- 
erate brigades commanded by Stafford, Pegram, and 
Hayes. Stafford was mortally and Pegram very se- 
verely wounded, and the Twenty-fifth Virginia of 
Jones's brigade, which had been transferred to the 
extreme left along with Gordon's, lost its colors and 
over two hundred men to the Fifth Wisconsin of Rus- 
sell's brigade. 

And here may I be allowed to say that all the flags 
save one captured from the enemy in the Wilderness 
were taken by western regiments. The Twenty-fourth 
Michigan captured the colors of the Forty-eighth 
Virginia, the Fifth Wisconsin those of the Twenty- 
fifth, the Twentieth Indiana those of the Fifty-fifth, 
the Seventh Indiana those of the Fiftieth Virginia; 
the Fifth Michigan those of the Thirteenth North 
Carolina. The Eighth Ohio and the Fourteenth In- 
diana retook Ricketts's guns. The men from the West 
were probably no braver, man for man, than those 
of the East; but I think their success was wholly be- 
cause so many of the men were woods-wise. From 



200 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

their youth up, both by day and by night, they had 
roamed through woods under all sorts of sky and in 
all sorts of weather, and so their depths had no ter- 
ror for them; like their enemies, they were at home 
in the timber, and could make their way through it 
almost as well by night as by day. And I have often 
thought that perhaps it was this common knowledge 
of the woods that gave our western armies so many 
victories. A Confederate line coming on, or rising 
up suddenly and breaking into their sharp, fierce 
yells, did not greatly surprise or set them quaking. 
And yet, although all my boyhood was passed in the 
grandly deep, primeval forests of Ohio, I am free to 
own that I never heard that "Rebel" yell in the 
woods of Virginia that its old fields behind us did not 
seem at once to become mightily attractive. 

Reference should be made, as a part of the day's 
serious history, to the cavalry engagements under 
Wilson and Gregg. The former's encounter with 
Rosser and Fitz Lee has been mentioned; it was se- 
vere, and Wilson, overpowered, had to take his way 
as best he could to Gregg at Todd's Tavern, who 
bristled up, and with Davies's brigade, the First 
New Jersey and First Massachusetts Cavalry, met 
the confident pursuing enemy and drove them back 
to Corbin's bridge, but only after a loss of ninety- 
odd killed and wounded. 

When night and exhaustion put an end to the fell 
struggle between Hancock and Hill, it may be said 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 201 

that the first day of the battle of the Wilderness was 
over. And what a day it had been ! Where now were 
the plans, hopes, and roseate forecasts which the 
self-reliant natures of both Grant and Lee had made, 
as they were looking forward to it the night before? 
All transmuted into solemn, speechful reality. Grant 
had telegraphed Halleck as soon as he had crossed 
the Rapidan safely: "Forty-eight hours now will 
demonstrate whether the enemy intends giving bat- 
tle this side of Richmond." With his intuitive wis- 
dom, he had predicted truly; yet, as a matter of fact, 
he did not know or care when or where the battle 
should begin. He meant to find Lee, clinch, and have 
it out with him for good and all, wholly undisturbed 
as usual over possible results. And behold, the day 
had banished the uncertainties of the night before, 
and had brought him just where he had wanted to be, 
in conflict with his famous adversary. 

But, imperturbable as he was, I feel sure it had 
brought some disappointment to him, — not be- 
cause Lee had obviously the best of it, but because 
he himself had discovered the Army of the Potomac's 
one weakness, the lack of springy formation, and au- 
dacious, self-reliant initiative. This organic weak- 
ness was entirely due to not having had in its youth 
skillfully agressive leadership. Its early commanders 
had dissipated war's best elixir by training it into a 
life of caution, and the evil of that schooling it had 
shown on more than one occasion, and unmistakably 



202 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

that day, and it had had to sufiFer for it. But never, 
on that day or any other, did an army carry its bur- 
dens of every kind, and it had many, with a steadier 
or a more steadfast heart. 

But I had better leave the battle's tactics to those 
who make a special study of military campaigns, ven- 
turing the following personal incident for the con- 
sideration of those young, cocksure critics who have 
never been in a big or a little battle, and who are 
surprised at the mistakes that Grant and Lee made, 
and contemplate with supreme satisfaction what 
would have happened had they been there and in 
command of either army. One night, some time in 
the winter before we started for the Wilderness, when 
I was dining with Duane, Turnbull, Michler, and 
Mackenzie of the engineers, in their spacious pine- 
bough-decorated mess room, they discussed Burn- 
side's hesitation when Mr. Lincoln, having finally made 
up his mind to relieve McClellan, offered him the com- 
mand of the Army of the Potomac. I listened a while, 
and then piped up that Burnside should not have 
had any such doubts of himself, that he had been 
educated for that business and kind of emergency, 
that it was n't very much of a job, etc., and wound 
up — the bottle had moved faithfully, yet with gen- 
teel moderation — that if I were offered the command 
I 'd take it. Whereupon my astounded listeners flung 
themselves back in their chairs and there was some- 
thing between a howl and a roar of laughter as they 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 203 

threw their eyes, filled with pity and humor, across 
and down the table at a mere snip of a thin-faced 
boy. Well, of course, I stuck to it — I should have 
taken command of the Army of the Potomac. 

Now if, at the end of that first night, say at nine 
o'clock, Mr. Grant should have sent for me and said, 
**I'm thinking of assigning you to the independent 
command of one of the empty ambulances," — let 
alone turning the command of the Army of the Po- 
tomac over to me, — "and want you to get it safely 
out of this," I think I should have said, "Mr. Grant, 
I'm not very experienced in handling ambulances, 
and if you can get anybody else I'll not object," so 
dark was the outlook and so deeply had I been im- 
pressed by the responsibilities that encompassed 
him. 

Dear military critics, however vast may be your 
knowledge of the art of war, and however boldly your 
youthful confidence may buckle on its sword and 
parade to the imaginary music of battle, let me tell 
you that if you are ever on a field where your coun- 
try's life is hanging as ours hung on Grant's, or as 
the cause of the South hung on Lee's shoulders, I'll 
guarantee that you will not volunteer to take the 
command of anything, but will wonder that more 
mistakes are not made. 

And here answer might be given to the inquiry 
which is often raised, coming sometimes from those 
who have been carried away by delving in the tac- 



204 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

tics of battle, and sometimes from those who have 
become warmly interested in its history: namely, 
what did the officers at corps and army headquar- 
ters have to say about it among themselves during 
its progress, and especially at the close of that first 
day in the Wilderness. In the sense in which the 
question is asked, nothing, absolutely nothing. For 
who could possibly have penetrated the rapidly 
evolving events and seen what the critic sees now 
so clearly? Who could have told us where the gaps 
lay between Ewell and Hill, where Longstreet was, 
and the importance of bringing Burnside's two divi- 
sions up to the Lacy farm that afternoon so as to 
be ready for the next morning? 
I It is hardly necessary to say that for officers or men 
to discuss or pass judgment upon the events and 
conduct of a battle would be death to discipline, and 
instead of an army, the country would be relying 
for its life upon a mob. In all my service with the 
Army of the Potomac, from Chancellorsville to 
Petersburg, sometimes in the eclipse of defeat, some- 
times in the very verge of yawning disaster, never 
did I hear discussion, or more than barely a word 
of criticism or protest, over any feature of a cam- 
paign, except after Cold Harbor, and then only for 
a day. Soldiers and officers see so little of the field 
that they do not give weight to their immediate sur- 
roundings or experience. 

The question of what the officers at headquarters 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 205 

said to each other about the battle in its progress, 
and how they felt, is a very natural one, and its an- 
swer may be a minor but essential part of the story 
itself. I do not know what Grant, Meade, Rawlins, 
and Seth Williams may have said to each other, or 
what they may have talked about, but whenever 
an aide came back from the front and had reported 
to the General or chief of stafiF, he would take his 
place among his fellows, and their first question 
would be, "Where have you been. Bob, or Tom, or 
Mack," ** how is it going up there, old fellow?" 
For every one, from the time the battle began, was 
keen to learn its progress. "Been up [or over] to 

lines. They are holding their own mighty well 

— Colonel So-and-So [or our dear little *Dad,' or 
Bill] has just been killed — old General 's com- 
mand is catching perfect h — 1, say, fellers, where 
can I get something to eat [or drink], I'm hungry 
[or dry] as the dickens." That is about a fair sam- 
ple of the conversation at headquarters while a bat- 
tle is going on, so far as my experience goes. 

For the information of those who have followed 
the paths of peace, let me say, without seeming di- 
dactic, that the commanding general and his corps 
commanders are rarely where the artists have depic- 
ted them, on rearing horses, leading or directing amid 
a sheet of fire. There are times, however, when the 
artist is true to life: as when Sheridan, seeing Ayres 
and his Regulars recoiling for a moment under ter- 



206 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

rific fire at Five Forks, dashed in; and there and then 
with those flashing eyes, amid the smoke of battle, he 
might have been painted. And so too, Warren, for 
that same day he seized the colors on another part 
of the field, and led on. But, as a rule, the corps com- 
mander chooses a position where he can best see 
his troops as they engage. The test of his genius is 
in choosing the critical moment when he will join 
them, and I 'd suggest to my old Alma Mater, West 
Point, that it should impress upon its future generals 
the importance of catching the crisis in a battle and 
showing them the weight of their presence with 
their troops. In that glowing characteristic Sheri- 
dan rose above about all of our commanders. Sup- 
pose McClellan had shown himself and ridden his 
lines at Gaines's Mill, or Bragg at Chickamauga, 
might not the outcome have been different? Owing 
to the nature of the Wilderness, Grant had few 
chances to seize opportunities of that kind. At 
Spottsylvania, the night Upton was making his as- 
sault and breaking their lines temporarily, he was 
close up, and I sat my horse not far from him. 
There were two or three lines of battle within thirty 
or forty paces of each other and of him. The fire 
that reached us was considerable; an orderly carry- 
ing the headquarters standard was killed, and a 
solid shot struck an oak five or six inches through, 
squarely, not thirty feet from us, shivering it into 
broom shvers; but through it all Grant wore the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 207 

same unperturbed, quiet, but somewhat pleading 
face. 

But, to return to the Wilderness and the impres" 
sions it made, it goes without saying that the first 
day was a disappointing one, and that the desperate 
character of the fighting and the attendant losses 
had stamped themselves deeply. There was no de- 
jection, however, the army from top to bottom was 
looking forward to the coming day's trial with reso- 
lution and hope. 

Notwithstanding that Lee had repulsed Warren 
and had badly shaken the morale of his entire corps, 
and also that of Mott's division of Hancock's corps, 
had held Sedgwick in check, fought Hancock and 
Getty to a standstill, thrown Wilson back, and brought 
the formidable movement up with a sudden jarring 
stop, yet seemingly Grant at the close of the day — 
and I saw him once or twice — was not troubled, 
and he issued orders with the same even, softly warm 
voice, to attack Lee impetuously early the next morn- 
ing all along his line. 

If the day had brought some disappointments 
and anxious foreshadowings to Grant, it must have 
brought some to Lee also. For he had hoped that 
when Grant should find him on his flank ready to 
take the offensive, that he, like Hooker, would be- 
come confused and undecided, thereby giving Long- 
street and the rest of his forces time to come up, 
and to repeat Chancellors ville. The results of the 



208 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

day had put another face on his hopes. Grant was 
neither undecided nor confused; he had made a 
savage drive at him, and when, at eleven o'clock that 
night, all the news had come in, Lee undoubtedly 
was duly thankful that he had held his own, as his 
despatch to the Confederate Secretary of War dated 
at that hour shows. He said in reporting the day's 
doings: — 

"By the blessing of God, we maintained our po- 
sition against every effort until night, when the con- 
test closed. We have to mourn the loss of many brave 
officers and men. The gallant Brigadier-General 
J. M. Jones was killed, and Brig.-Gen. L. A. Staf- 
ford I fear mortally wounded while leading his com- 
mand with conspicuous valor." 

His greatest blessings, however, were that Warren 
was not allowed to wait till Wright came up, that 
Getty had not attacked an hour earlier, and that we 
had not seized and held the Chewning farm. 

When the firing ceased on Hancock's front, to 
those of us around the Lacy house and at Grant's 
headquarters the silence was heavy and awesome. 
But soon the stars were shining softly and the mer- 
ciful quiet of night came on; and wheresoever a mor- 
tally wounded man could be reached who was crying 
for water and help, — some of them in high, wild de- 
lirious screams of despair and agony, others with just 
enough breath left to be heard, alas! too often, only 
by the bushes around them, — surgeons and friendly 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 209 

comrades, and sometimes their foes, stole to them 
and did all they could for them. 

I wonder what was going on in the breast of the 
Spirit of the Wilderness as the woods darkened. I 
wonder, too, as the spirits of those youths rose above 
the tree-tops all through that night, I wonder if they 
asked which was right and which was wrong as they 
bore on, a great flight of them, toward Heaven's gate. 
On and on they go, following the road Christ made 
for us all, past moon and stars, — the air is growing 
balmy, landscapes of eternal heavenly beauty are 
appearing; in the soft breezes that kiss their faces 
there is the faint odor of wild grapes in bloom, and 
lo! they hear a choir singing, "Peace on earth, good 
will toward men!" And two by two they lock arms 
like college boys and pass in together; and so may it 
be for all of us at last. 

. After supper, which did not take place until the 
day's commotion had well quieted down, I happened 
to go into the Lacy house, and in the large, high- 
ceiled room on the left of the hall was Warren, seated 
on one side of a small table, with Locke, his adjutant 
general, and Milhau, his chief surgeon, on the other, 
making up a report of his losses of the day. Warren 
was still wearing his yellow sash, his hat rested on 
the table, and his long, coal-black hair was stream- 
ing away from his finely expressive forehead, the 
only feature rising unclouded above the habitual 
gloom of his duskily sallow face. A couple of tallow 



210 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

candles were burning on the table, and on the high 
mantel a globe lantern. Locke and Milhau were both 
small men: the former unpretentious, much reflect- 
ing, and taciturn; the latter a modest man, and a 
great friend of McClellan's, with a naturally rippling, 
joyous nature. 

Just as I passed them, I heard Milhau give a figure, 
his aggregate from data which he had gathered at 
the hospitals. "It will never do, Locke, to make a 
showing of such heavy losses," quickly observed War- 
ren. It was the first time I had ever been present 
when an official report of this kind was being made, 
and in my unsophisticated state of West Point truth- 
fulness it drew my eyes to Warren's face with wonder, 
and I can see its earnest, mournfully solemn lines yet. 
It is needless to say that after that I always doubted 
reports of casualties until officially certified. 

Shortly after, Warren, accompanied by Roebling, 
went to a conference of the corps commanders which 
Meade had called to arrange for the attack which 
Grant had already ordered to be made at 4.30 the 
next morning. 

I passed through the house, and out to the place 
where the horses were, in charge of the orderlies. I 
found mine among others in the semi-darkness of 
one of the open sheds of the old plantation's cluster- 
ing barns, gave him the usual friendly pat, and stroked 
his silky neck as he daintily selected from the remain- 
ing wisps of his ration. of hay. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 211 

All the space between the garden, the back of the 
house, and the barns, was loosely occupied by the 
bivouacs of the headquarters orderlies, clerks, team- 
sters, officers' servants, cooks and waiters of the va- 
rious messes, provost-guards, etc., who on a campaign 
form quite a colony about corps and army headquar- 
ters. The soldiers, in groups of two or three, were 
sitting around their little dying fires, smoking; some 
with overcoat and hat for a pillow, already asleep. 
The black cooks, coatless and bareheaded, were 
puttering around their pot and kettle fires, with the 
usual attendant circle of waiters sitting on their 
haunches, some with their long, sinewy arms embrac- 
ing languidly their uplifted knees, eyes of some on the 
fire, chins of some on their breasts and eyes closed, 
all drowsily listening to some one's childlike chatter; 
others on their backs, feet towards the fire, and snor- 
ing loudly. And around them all, and scattered about, 
are the baggage and supply-wagons, their bowed 
white canvas tops, although mildewed and dirty, 
dimly looming, outlined by being the resting-place 
for stray beams wandering through the night. The 
mule teams, unhitched but still harnessed, stand 
facing each other across the wagon-pole where their 
deep feed-box is still resting. Some are nosing in it 
for an overlooked kernel of oats or corn, or a taste 
of salt, some among the bits of forage that have fallen 
to the ground, some nodding. Their driver is asleep 
in or under the wagon, and his rest unbroken by the 



212 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

every-once-in-a-while quick rattling of the looped-up 
trace-chains, as one of his mules lets drive a vicious 
kick right or left at its army mate. 

All up and down Wilderness Run, all over the once 
tilled fields of the Lacy farm and the old, gullied, pine 
and brier-tufted ones uplifting east of the run, little 
fires are blinking as they burn low. Some are those of 
batteries, some of trains, and some, at the top of the 
ridge, those of the hospitals of the Fifth Corps, where 
the surgeons, with rolled-up sleeves, are at their 
humane tasks in the operating tents, instruments by 
them which they handle with skill and mercy, as one 
after another the mutilated and perforated bodies 
of the boys who have been willing to risk their lives 
for the country are brought in and laid on the table 
before them, their anxious eyes scrutinizing the sur- 
geon*s face for a sign of hope as he examines their 
wounds and feels their fluttering pulses. Heaven bless 
their memory, all of them, and wherever the dust 
of one of them lies, I know the feeling mother earth 
holds it tenderly. 

And now, reader, it is drawing late. Great, majes- 
tic, and magnanimous Night has come down, cover- 
ing the Wilderness and us all in mysterious silence. 
Let us take a couple of these folding camp-chairs 
and go out and sit in the starlight on the lawn of the 
old Lacy house. Here is my tobacco-pouch; fill your 
pipe, and I'll try to convey to you the situation at 
this hour on the field, and then we will turn in. There 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 213 

are one or two incidents that I 'd like to tell you also, 
and if I forget to mention them as I go along, I wish, 
before I get through, that you would jog my memory. 

Meade's commodious living tents are pitched on 
the east side of the Germanna Road, directly oppo- 
site the knoll which he and Grant have occupied all 
day. Grant's are at the foot of the knoll, and a big, 
balloon-topped Cottonwood or poplar waves over the 
spot still. Their tents are about two hundred yards 
apart, and Caton's little warrior Run is between 
them. Their headquarters tents, flaps thrown back, 
are indicated by colored lanterns on poles in front of 
them; and in them a candle or lamp is burning, and 
on a camp-chair before them, or writing at a table 
within, is an adjutant-general on duty for the night. 
Couriers are standing about with their horses sad- 
dled, and out where the Germanna Road meets the 
Pike, is a mounted orderly to point the way to aides 
coming in from the lines, who have occasion to visit 
headquarters. And let us hope that blessed sleep 
on her noiseless wings has found her way without 
the aid of the sentinel at the Pike to the tents of 
both Meade and Grant. 

There is no moon, the stars are dim, and all is 
hushed. The night air is permeated with the odor of 
freshly-burnt-over woods, for the fire spread widely 
and is still slumbering and smoking in chunks and 
fallen trees. Here and there it has climbed up the 
grape-vines or the loose bark of a dead trunk, and 



214 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

aloft throws out little tremulous torch-like flames 
from their scraggly-limbed tops, pulsing beacons 
over the dark woods. Single ambulances are still 
coming and going, and now and then one is picking 
its way slowly and carefully with its suffering load 
across the fields. 

Up the Pike, barely visible by the light that falls 
from the starry maze, from those lamps that are hung 
to show our minds the way to Another's headquarters 
far, far above Grant's and Meade's, both armies are 
lying behind their newly-thrown-up breastworks, 
which stretch from Flat Run well across the Pike 
toward Chewning's, and are more or less parallel and 
close. On Sedgwick's and some of Warren's front 
they are within pistol-shot of one another, and all 
along between them are many dead and wounded, 
whose cries and moans can be heard, but cannot be 
relieved, so persistent is the firing. Sedgwick's head- 
quarters are on the Flat Run Road not far from where 
it joins the Germanna. Upton, Brown, Russell, Sha- 
ler, Morris, and Seymour of his corps, like Griffin, 
Ayres, Robinson, and Bartlett of Warren's, are up 
in the woods close behind their troops, blessed, I 
hope, with refreshing sleep. 

Ewell has his headquarters bivouac on the Pike, 
and I suppose his flea-bitten gray, Rifle, that Major 
Stiles claimed resembled him, — if so. Rifle must 
have been a lank, serious-looking horse, with a high 
broad forehead, rather bony eye-sockets, and lean. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 215 

scooped-out cheeks, for such were the prominent 
features of Ewell's face, — Rifle, more or less visible 
on account of his chalky color, is not far away, tied 
to a sapling; and, as his rider has lost a leg, he, out 
of sympathy or weariness, is probably resting one 
hind leg on its toe and dreaming. Ewell's general 
hospital, his surgeons as busy as our own, is back 
near Locust Grove, whence at an early hour in the 
evening a batch of our prisoners, about twelve hun- 
dred in number, most of them from Warren's corps, 
had set out for Orange Court House. In the middle 
of the night they met Ramseur and Mahone hurry- 
ing toward the front. 

Had I been one of the unfortunate prisoners I know 
that I should have wished over and over again, as I 
trudged along that night, that I was lying dead back 
on the field with my fellows, rather than about to 
face a long term in Confederate prisons, so greatly 
did I dread them after seeing the wrecks that came 
down the James from Richmond when I first went to 
Fort Monroe. 

Hancock is bivouacked on the Plank Road a short 
way east (within a hundred yards) of the Junction, 
and he may or may not be asleep, for, at his inter- 
view with Meade, the latter cautioned him to keep 
a strict lookout for his left in the morning — hinting 
at the possibility of Longstreet striking him in the 
Stonewall Jackson way. Birney has been told that he 
is to lead in the morning, and the various brigade 



216 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

commanders of his division and Getty's have had 
their positions assigned them. Sheridan is at Chan- 
cellorsville; Wilson and Gregg are so encamped as 
to cover the roads that come in at Todd's Tavern. 

On the Widow Tapp field, dimly lit by the faint 
starlight, and silent, save that now and then a travel- 
ing cry from the wounded in the woods passes over it, 
Lee, Hill, and Wilcox are camped close up to their 
well-fought, tired troops, and their headquarters are 
not far apart. *Hill is described as sitting alone at 
a late hour before a small, languishing fire, made of 
a few round, crossed-over sticks, near one of the guns 
of Williams's battery whose right wheel is just on the 
edge of the road, facing Birney. Wilcox has been to 
see Hill and asked for permission to withdraw his 
lines so as to reform them, and the little, punctilious 
man, who is not very well, has told him to let the men 
rest. 

The reason why Wilcox made this request is ex- 
plained by the adjutant of the Eighteenth North 
Carolina in his account of the Wilderness. It seems 
that when Brooke struck Lane's brigade, the Eight- 
eenth was badly shattered, and, breaking, disap- 
peared in the darkness. The adjutant, while seeking 
it, got lost, suddenly found himself within our lines, 
and after cautiously making his way to avoid this 
body of men and then another in the woods, all at 
once struck the Plank Road, knew where he was, 
followed it up to our pickets, and then, staking his 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 217 

life against captivity, dashed ahead through them. 
On reaching the edge of the woods he saw a white 
horse standing out in the Tapp field and, going closer, 
recognized it as General Wilcox's. He sought the 
general and told him that there was nothing, ab- 
solutely nothing, between his lines and ours. Wilcox 
was cross, and would not listen to him, dismissing 
him sharply with an aside that there was a brigade 
in front of his line. The adjutant at last found his 
regiment, told his fellow officers his story, and they, 
in view of the danger, went to Wilcox and assured 
him of their adjutant's truthfulness and good judg- 
ment. Thereupon Wilcox made his visit to Hill. Later 
he tells us that he went to see Lee, whose tent was 
within less than two hundred yards, in reference to 
the same matter. On his entering, Lee remarked that 
he had made a complimentary report on the conduct 
of his and Heth's division and, holding up a note, that 
he had just heard from Anderson, that he was going 
into bivouac at Verdierville, and that he had sent 
word to him and to Longstreet to move forward so 
as to relieve the divisions which had been so actively 
engaged. 

Longstreet at that hour was bivouacking at Rich- 
ard's shop on the Catharpin Road. W^hen we first 
entered Richmond the following April, the diary of 
an officer of his corps was picked up in the street by 
some one of our men, and in it is this entry: — 

"Thursday, May 5th. Marched at three o'clock 



218 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

this morning. Rested after marching thirteen miles, 
and cooked some rations. After resting a while re- 
sumed march, marched 20 miles and camped at dark 
five miles from the battle-field." 

That made a total of thirty-three miles, and as the 
day was exceedingly hot, especially in the woods, 
the men must have been very tired. 

Lee's orders to Longstreet, carried by that crystal 
aide, Venable, were to move at 2 a. m., the same hour 
as that Grant had set for Burnside. Longstreet had 
a mile or two farther to march, but, unfortunately 
for us, he had not, on this occasion at least, "a genius 
for slowness," and was on the very nick of time. 

The troops on the move then are Ramseur and 
Mahone on their way to reinforce Lee's lines, and 
Ferrero, my old West Point dancing-master, tip- 
toeing along with his colored division to reach Ger- 
manna Ford and swell Burnside's corps. 

And that now is the story of the night. 

"But you have not told me," exclaims my friend, 
knocking the ashes out of his pipe, "of the personal 
incidents you asked to be reminded of." Well, do not 
fill your pipe again, I '11 promise not to be long. There 
is the body of a young officer lying alone in the woods 
pretty well south of the Plank Road. It is that of 
Colonel Alford B. Chapman, aged twenty-eight years, 
of the Fifty-seventh New York. There is a little 
pocket note-book beside his lifeless hand, and on one 
of the open leaves he has written his father's name 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 219 

and address and these words: "Dear Father: I am 
mortally wounded. Do not grieve for me. My dear- 
est love to all. Alford." I do not know, but I doubt 
if Death anywhere in the Wilderness has met more 
steady eyes than those of this dying, family-remem- 
bering young man. He was brigade officer of the day, 
and his duties had called him into the engagement 
very early; and when, toward dusk, his regiment 
advanced to fill a gap on account of the lines being 
extended southward to meet the overlapping of Lane's 
big North Carolina brigade, it came across Chap- 
man's body, the first it knew of his fate. 

And while we are on Hancock's front let me refer 
to Hays, and, if ever you go along the Brock Road, 
you will come to a cast-iron gun standing upright 
on a granite base surrounded by an iron picket 
fence. It marks the near-by spot where he fell, and 
is on the right-hand side of the road about where 
the easterly branch of Wilderness Run crosses it, a 
little this side of the Junction. He was a very gallant 
officer, and his lonely monument will appeal to you. 
There is something illustrative of the man, and mys- 
teriously prophetic, in a letter he wrote to his wife 
the morning of the day he was killed: "This morning 
was beautiful," said the letter, "for 

'Lightly and brightly shone the sun, 
As if the morn was a jocund one.' 

Although we were anticipating to march at 8 o'clock, 
it might have been an appropriate harbinger of the 



220 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

day of regeneration of mankind; but it only brought 
to remembrance, through the throats of bugles, that 
duty enjoined upon each one, perhaps before the set- 
ting sun, to lay down a life for his country." 

It was a translation worthy of the prophets of old 
that he gave to the notes of the bugles; and the rev- 
erential, kindly mood — and to think it was his last! 
— hailing the sun as the harbinger of the day of re- 
generation of mankind! Oh! the sanity and spread 
of the primary emotions! 

The other incidents are these, one of which was 
referred to early in the narrative, namely, the relief 
of one of our men on Griffin's front by a Confederate 
officer. The circumstances were as follows: the Con- 
federate, touched by the cries of our men, — he had 
been trying to sleep, — crawled over the works on 
hands and knees in the darkness, till he reached a 
wounded man, who turned out to be a lieutenant of 
a western regiment, if I remember right, and asked 
what he could do for him. "I am very, very thirsty, 
and I am shot so that I cannot move." The good 
Samaritan crawled to the little brook, — it wimples 
still across the old Pike, — filled a canteen and came 
back with it, and, after propping the wounded man's 
head, went his way. A little while afterwards another 
Confederate came prowling toward the wounded man 
and, thinking he was dead, began to feel for his watch. 
The lieutenant remonstrated, but the hard-hearted 
creature took the watch, saying, "You will be dead 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 221 

before long, and will not need it." Here we have the 
extremes of our natures, and how they stand out ! the 
manly and angelic, the brutish and satanic! I know 
the name of the prowler; but of the other, the noble 
fellow, I do not. If I did, it should appear on this page 
and live as long as I could make it live. This story 
I got from my friend, Mr. Jennings of the Wilderness, 
who had it from the lips of the western lieutenant 
himself, who, a few years ago, came back to the old 
battle-field, and the first place he visited was the lit- 
tle brook; and I have no doubt it murmured sweetly 
all through that night, full of a native happiness at 
seeing once more its acquaintance of other days. 
: The other incident is found in the diary of Cap- 
tain Robert E. Park, Company F, Twelfth Alabama, 
Battle's brigade, Rodes's division. "Crawled oveil 
the works with two canteens of water to relieve some 
of the wounded, groaning and calling aloud in front 
of the line. Night dark, no moon and few stars, and 
as I crawled to the first man and offered him a drink 
of water, he declined; and, in reply to my inquiries, 
told me that he was shot through the leg and body 
and was sure he was bleeding internally. I told him 
that I feared he would not live till morning, and 

^ I am indebted to Mrs. and Mr. Jennings for opening their door to 
me as the day was ending on my last visit to the Wilderness; I was tired, 
hungry, and chilled, and no stranger ever met a more hospitable welcome. 
Their house stands nearly opposite where Grant had his headquarters, 
and while I sat before the crackling fire my eye rested on the spot, over 
which a cold gray mist was drifting. 



222 THE BATTLE OP THE WILDERNESS 

asked him whether he was making any preparation 
for leaving this world. His reply was that he had 
not given it a thought, as his life had not been one of 
sin, and that he was content. He was about twenty 
years of age, and from a northwestern state." 
Guides of the upper world ! I have only one request 
to make, that you point out to me that boy; for I 
should like these earthly eyes to rest upon the calm 
depths of his heroic and innocent face; and I have 
no doubt his kind benefactor. Captain Park, will be 
there too. 

And now it is near midnight, and all is very, very 
still. "Hark, what is that I hear?" you ask. It is 
some staff officer's horse at a brigade headquarters 
up in the woods, neighing for a mate which will 
probably never march with him again. Let us turn 
in. 



VIII 

Meade, in transmitting to his corps commanders 
Grant's orders for the renewal of the battle, directed 
them to send their train-guards, as well as every 
man who could shoulder a musket, to join the ranks 
by daylight; adding that staff officers should be sent 
at once to his headquarters to learn from the chiefs 
of departments the location of their special trains and 
conduct the guards to the front. This order took a 
deal of hard night-riding to fulfill, and some of those 
who carried it did not get back to their respective 
headquarters till long after midnight; for the main 
trains were scattered about Chancellorsville and along 
the Ely's Ford Road wherever they could haul off 
into an opening, and on account of the darkness were 
hard to find. 

Meade, as already told, asked his corps commanders 
to come and see him in reference to the movement 
in the morning; and, having had quite a conference 
with them, sent Lyman over with this message to 
Grant: "After conversing with my corps commanders, 
I am led to believe that it will be difficult, owing to 
the dense thicket in which their commands are lo- 
cated, the fatigued condition of the men rendering 
it difficult to rouse them early enough, and the neces- 



224 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

sity of some daylight, to properly put in reinforce- 
ments. All these considerations induce me to suggest 
the attack should not be made till six o'clock instead 
of 4.30." It was then half-past ten and Grant had 
retired; he was aroused, and changed it to five; and 
says in his Memoirs that he was sorry he made the 
change, and I am sure he was right. In view of the 
fact that the sun rose in a clear sky at 4.47, and, as 
every one knows, dawn at that season begins at latest 
by four o'clock, — I remember its coming on, scat- 
tering light like the sower it is, at every step; for we 
breakfasted early that morning; the mist that had 
gathered during the night was lifting and all but a 
few of the stars had faded and gone, — I say, until 
I saw Colonel Lyman's notes, I always wondered 
why Meade made this request of Grant to postpone 
the attack an hour and a half, till the sun had risen 
above the trees; but I think the notes disclose the 
reason. 

It will be recalled that two of Burnside's divi- 
sions were in bivouac just this side of the Rapidan, 
and that his was a separate command independent 
of Meade, hence all his orders had to emanate from 
Grant. Accordingly for the morning's attack Grant 
sent them to him direct through Colonel Comstock 
of the engineers, one of my instructors at West 
Point, a tall, sedate man, and Grant's most mod- 
est, able, and confidential aide. They were in these 
terms: — 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 225 

Head Quarters Armies of the United States, 
Near Wilderness Tavern, 

May 5, 1864, 8 p. m. 

Lieutenant-General Grant desires that you start 
your two divisions at 2 a M. to-morrow, punctually, 
for this place. You will put them in position between 
the Germanna Plank Road and the road leading from 
this place to Parker's Store, so as to close the gap 
between Warren and Hancock, connecting both. You 
will move from this position on the enemy beyond 
at 4.30 A. M., the time at which the Army of the Po- 
tomac moves. 

C. B. COMSTOCK, 

Lt.-Col. & Aide-de-camp. 

It seems that Burnside came to Grant's headquar- 
ters after the receipt of this order, and then joined 
Meade. At the close of his interview with Meade and 
the other corps commanders gathered there, he said, 
as he rose, — he had a very grand and oracular air, 

— "Well, then, my troops shall break camp by half- 
past two!" and with shoulders thrown back and 
measured step disappeared in the darkness. 

\ After he was out of hearing, Duane, Meade's Chief 
of Engineers, who had been with the Army of the 
Potomac since its formation, said: ^'He won't be up 

— I know him well!" — I can see Duane's face, hear 
his quiet voice, see his hands slowly stroking his full, 
long, rusty beard, as he says, "He won't be up — I 
know him well!" — And apparently that was the 



226 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

opinion of them all, that he would n't be up by 4.30 
— for they knew him well, too, and recognized what 
Lyman says of him, that he "had a genius for slow- 
ness." But each one felt the importance of his join- 
ing them before they tackled Lee again, for they had 
had about all they could do to hold their own that 
afternoon. So, fresh troops being very desirable, and 
knowing him as they did, they wanted to make sure 
of them by allowing him an extra hour and a half to 
get them up. 

And I suspect that Meade, convinced that they 
were right, that Burnside would not be up in time, 
made use of thickets and want of daylight rather 
than the real reason, to ask for the postponement 
of the attack. As we shall see, it turned out just as 
Duane predicted. 

Burnside represented a well-recognized type in 
all armies, the California-peach class of men, hand- 
some, ingratiating manners, and noted for a soldierly 
bearing, — that is, square shoulders, full breast, and 
the capacity on duty to wear a grim countenance, 
while ofif duty all smiles and a keen eye to please, — 
who, in times of peace, not only in our country but 
everywhere, invariably land in high places, and who 
almost as invariably make utter failures when they 
are given commands on the breaking out of war. 
And are not their failures accounted for by the fact 
that their minds have been entirely devoted to look- 
ing out for the main chance, to being agreeable and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 227 

well-groomed, rather than to the deep serious phases 
of life? — I am satisfied that reflection is the pole 
star of genius, — hence, when they are confronted 
by the inexorable demands of war, they hesitate, 
appalled and imbecile. Moreover, there is nothing 
reactive about this type, as in the case of Grant and 
Lee, Sherman and Sheridan. And yet twice did Con- 
gress vote its thanks to Burnside, and old "Burn," 
as he was affectionately called, died with hosts and 
hosts of friends. 

Knowing that at five o'clock battle was to be re- 
newed by vigorous attack all along the lines, the 
little colony of orderlies, cooks, and teamsters about 
Warren's headquarters were astir before daylight. 
When I aroused, some of the stars were still glowing 
and belated detachments from the train guards were 
still coming on to the field on their way to their re- 
spective commands, moving through the disappear- 
ing mist that had stolen into the Wilderness, and, 
as we woutd fain believe, to moisten the cheeks and 
eyelashes of its living and dead as they slept, and 
to wrap the latter in its cool gray shrouds. Up near 
the woods, dimly visible, were a couple of brigades 
— the Marylanders among them — which Warren 
had had assembled there during the night as a re- 
serve behind GriflBn, to whom, as on the day before, 
the initiative of the serious work was intrusted. The 
places of these troops in line had been made good 
by closing Crawford to the right and abreast of 



228 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Griffin, on the assumption that Burnside would be 
up and take the ground he had occupied, that is, 
across the Parker's Store Road, near where it leaves 
Wilderness Run for the rolling plateau of the Chewn- 
ing farm. 

Kitching's brigade of heavy artillery had just ar- 
rived from Chancellorsville, and the men were resting 
near the Lacy house, most of them between the run 
and the road. It was a big, fresh brigade, over twenty- 
two hundred strong; and while its regiments were 
preparing for the night march, — their orders were 
to move at 1 a. m., — the Colonel and a score or two 
of his men held a service, and, all kneeling, he led 
them in prayer. Around the kneeling group were the 
shallow graves of those who had been killed the year 
before; and the one who narrates the circumstance 
says that solitude's dreariest choir, the whippoor- 
wills, of which there were hundreds, and maybe thou- 
sands, were repeating their night-long mournful chant. 
Possibly the earnest student of the battle would pre- 
fer to be told why they were serving as infantry, — 
they were three battalion regiments, — their order 
of march, and exactly the distance they had had to 
make; but I wonder which is the more enduring and 
significant fact, the young colonel with palm to palm 
pouring out his heart to God under the starlight, or 
whether Blank's battalion moved first right or left in 
front. 

How all mere military detail of battle fades away 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 229 

as we lift on the tides of great affairs ! Student of war, 
let me suggest that once in a while as you study bat- 
tles that you take Imagination's offered hand; she 
will lead you through simple height-gaining paths 
till at last fife and drum die away and lo! you are in 
a blessed company charged to convert what is earthly 
into what is spiritual. 

But to return to the morning: day was coming on 
fast; bodies of woods, solitary trees on the ridges, and 
vacant sky-arched distances, were stealing into view 
as we hastily breakfasted. Our horses were saddled 
and ready, and those of us who had had a kind word 
for the colored cooks and waiters found in our sad- 
dle-bags a snack of one kind or other wrapped up in 
bits of paper. Nowhere in this world does it pay 
better to show consideration for the low in estate, 
and above all for those of the colored race, than on a 
campaign. They will look after you faithfully, and, 
if you should be sick or wounded, will stand by you 
to the last. 

Although a great many years lie between now and 
then, yet across them all I can see Warren mounting 
his heavy dappled iron-gray, and wearing his yel- 
low sash. His saddle-blanket was scarlet, and a few 
days afterward at Spotsylvania, when this horse 
was shot, I waited near him while saddle and blanket 
were stripped from him^ by an orderly. 

' The shot that hit Warren's horse was aimed at Warren, and possi- 
bly fired by the same sharpshooter who the next morning at almost the 
identical spot killed Sedgwick. Warren was watching Robinson's men. 



230 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

The jBrst duty I had after breakfast was to go to 
the intersection of the Pike and Germanna Ford 
roads and wait there till Burnside should arrive, and 
then show him the way up the Parker's Store Road 
to his position. My assignment happened in this 
way: Roebling had gone to Grant's headquarters at 
11.30 the previous night to confer with Comstock as to 
the position Burnside's corps should take; and in his 
notes he says: "Two opinions presented themselves, 
either to go and join Wadsworth by daylight, or else 
obtain possession of the heights at Chewning's and 
fall upon the enemy's rear by that route. If success- 
ful in carrying the heights, the latter plan promised 
the greatest results; if not, it would fail altogether. 
Then again it was thought that when Wadsworth 
joined the Second Corps, the two together would be 
sufficient to drive the enemy. General Grant then 
decided that the Ninth Corps should go to Chewn- 
ing's, and I prepared to accompany them at four 
o'clock in the morning." Accordingly, at that hour, 
he and Cope went to the Pike and waited for Burn- 
side. I suspect that Warren, as the hour for attack 

who were briskly engaged along and to the right of the Spotsylvania 
Road, trying to carry the enemy's position at the old scattered orchard 
of the Spindle farm. I was directly behind him. We had been there but 
a short time before I heard the ping of a passing shot. From the same 
direction, another went directly over our heads, and, in a little while, as 
soon as the man could reload, another, and this time so much nearer 
that I said, "General, that man is getting the range on you." The sharp- 
shooter was in the woods beyond the rather wide and deep ravine that 
makes northeastward from the Sedgwick monument. Warren said no- 
thing but shortly started to move to the right, when down went the horse. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 231 

came on, and Burnside did not appear, feeling the 
need of both Roebhng and Cope, who really were 
his right-hand men, sent me to take their places and 
wait for Burnside. They both hurried off Cope to 
join Wadsworth. i ^ 

On my way to the Pike I passed the engineer bat- 
talion marching in column of fours to report to Griffin. 
It was the first time in all their history when, as a 
body, this aristocracy of the rank and file of the army 
was called on to take a hand as infantry, as common 
"dough-boys," in the actual fighting. I knew all the 
officers well: they were the ones I had dined with 
when I announced my readiness to take command 
of the Army of the Potomac. Their duties hitherto 
had been confined to the dangerous business of 
laying the pontoon bridges, and at other times to 
repairing roads or to selecting and laying out field- 
works — the officers meanwhile familiarizing them- 
selves with the lines and all the natural features of 
the scene of operations. But we all recognized the 
grind of fighting as infantry, and broad grins were 
exchanged as I rode by them. Fortunately, they were 
not called on to assault, but were put to throwing a 
new line of entrenchments across the Pike in rear 
of Griffin. 

The head of Burnside's leading division. Potter's, 
came on the field to the tune of Hancock's musketry 
about half-past five. It should have been there at 
least an hour and a half earlier to move to the attack 



232 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

with Hancock and Wadsworth. Duane's oracular 
observation of the night before, "He won't be up, 
I know him well," had been verified. Meade and 
the corps commanders had reckoned just about right 
in allowing him till six to be on hand. As a matter 
of fact, Burnside himself did n't get up to the Pike, 
let alone to the ground Crawford had occupied, till 
after six. "When he came, accompanied by a large 
staff, I rode up to him and told him my instructions. 
He was mounted on a bobtailed horse and wore a 
drooping army hat with a large gold cord around it. 
Like the Sphinx, he made no reply, halted, and began 
to look with a most leaden countenance in the direc- 
tion he was to go. 

It was the first time I had ever seen him, — he had 
commanded our old Army of the Potomac, he was a 
famous man, I was young, — and my eyes rested on 
his face with natural interest. After a while he started 
off calmly toward the Lacy house, not indicating that 
my services were needed, — he probably was think- 
ing of something that was of vastly more importance. 
I concluded that I was n't wanted, and was about 
to go my own way, when I caught sight of Babcock 
of Grant's staff coming at great speed down the hill 
just the other side of the run. He had been out with 
Hancock, and as he approached, I called, "What's 
the news, Babcock.^" Without halting he replied, 
his kindly, open face gleaming, "Hancock has driven 
them a mile and we are going to have a great victory," 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 233 

P or words to that effect. I do not believe my heart 
was ever more suddenly relieved, for from my youth 
forebodings of the very worst that can happen have 
always thrown its shadow. And now to know we 
were gaining a victory! I went back to the Lacy 
house happy, very happy indeed. 

Shortly after arriving there, Meade's instruction 
through Warren for Wadsworth to report for orders 
to Hancock while detached from the Fifth Corps, was 
given me to deliver, and with an orderly I started 
up the Parker's Store Road, encumbered with Burn- 
side's troops moving sluggishly into position, the 
ground being very difficult to form on speedily. 
By this time it was about 8 o'clock. The general 
had passed through them to the front, where Potter 
was deploying, but he had no sooner arrived there 
than his big staff caught the eye of a Confederate 
battery somewhere on the right of Ewell's line, and 
it opened on them, making it so uncomfortable that 
they had to edge away. I left the road about where 
the uppermost eastern branch comes in, and struck 
off through the woods in the direction Wadsworth 
had taken the night before. I had not gone a great 
way when my orderly, a German, riding behind me, 
said, "Lieutenant, you are bearing too much to the 
right, you will run into the rebel lines." I sheered to 
the left; here and there were stragglers and wounded, 
and at a point alongside the run, propped against 
a beech tree, his head resting on his right shoulder. 



234 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

his cap on the ground beside him, was a dead fair- 
faced boy, eighteen or nineteen years old, holding in 
his bloodless hand a few violets which he had picked. 
A shot had struck him in the arm, or the leg, I have 
forgotten which, and he had slowly bled to death. I 
fancy that, as he held the little familiar wild-flowers 
in his hand, his unsullied eyes glazed as he looked 
down into them, and his mind was way off at home. 
After passing him, the orderly again cautioned me, 
but this time I paid no attention to him and went 
on, guided by the firing. 

The woods were very thick, and unknowingly we 
were approaching quite a little rise, when suddenly 
came the command, "Get off that horse and come 
in." I lowered my head to the left, and there stood 
a heavy skirmish line with uplifted guns. It did 
not take me one second to decide. I suspect that 
as usual I did not think at all, but gave my horse 
a sudden jerk to the right, then the spur, and as 
he bounded they let drive at us. A shot, — I sup- 
pose it was one from their 58-calibre Enfields, — 
grazing my sabre-belt, struck the brass "D" buckle 
on my left side and tore the belt apart. My Colt's 
pistol in its holster began to fall and I grabbed it 
with my left hand. Just then a limb knocked off 
my hat and with my right hand I caught it as it was 
passing my right boot-top. Meanwhile the horse 
was tearing his way along the course we had come. 
The orderly disappeared instantly, and that was the 



THE BATTLE OF TEE WILDERNESS 235 

last I saw of him till the next morning, just after I 
had returned Grant's despatches that will be men- 
tioned later. When I met him, with unfeigned sur- 
prise he exclaimed, "Why, my God! lieutenant, I 
thought sure you were killed up there yesterday." 
I hardly know why he should have thought so unless 
he concluded I was falling when I was reaching for 
my hat. His judgment was better than mine, how- 
ever, and had I followed it neither of us would have 
had such a close call. 

Well, as soon as I could get control of my horse 
and both of us could breathe a bit easier, for the dear 
old fellow was no more anxious to go to Richmond 
that way than I, apparently, I struck off more to the 
left, and in a little while ran into swarms of stragglers, 
and pretty soon met a group falling back under some 
discipline. Upon inquiring, I found that they be- 
longed to Cutler's brigade of Wadsworth's division, 
and they told me that the division had been driven 
with heavy losses. I gave to the officer who said he was 
going back to the open ground, that is, to the Parker's 
Store Road or the Lacy fields, the despatch, which 
will be found in the War Records, dated May 5th by 
mistake; the hour given is 8.30. In this despatch 
to Warren I reported the enemy's skirmish-line as 
being about a mile from the field, that they had tried 
Wadsworth's left, and that I would go on till I found 
him. The person to whom this despatch was handed 
either delivered it in person or sent it by some one to 



Q3Q THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Warren's headquarters, and it was forwarded from 
there to Humphreys in a despatch dated 9.05. Soon 
I fell in with Cutler himself, leading back fragments 
of his broken command. There may have been seven 
or eight hundred of them, and possibly twice that 
number, for they were scattered all through the woods. 
He was rather an oldish, thin, earnest-looking Round- 
head sort of a man, his light stubby beard and hair 
turning gray. He was bleeding from a wound across 
his upper lip, and looked ghastly, and I have no 
doubt felt worse; for he was a gallant man, and to 
lead his men back, hearing every little while the 
volleys of their comrades still facing the enemy, 
must have been hard. On my asking him where 
Wadsworth was, he said, "I think he is dead"; and 
one or two of his officers said, "Yes, we saw him 
fall." 

Relying on what they told me, I started back for 
Meade's headquarters. When I reached there and 
reported the serious break in Wadsworth's lines, no 
one could believe it; but just then Cutler's men 
began to pour out of the woods in full view on the 
ridge east of the Lacy house, and the seriousness of 
the situation at once appeared to all. As to Wads- 
worth's death, Cutler and his officers were mistaken; 
he was not mortally wounded until about two hours 
later, but just before they broke the general's horse 
was killed and that led them to believe. I think, 
that he was killed also. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS ' 237 

My report, and Cutler's appearance verifying it, 
brought alarm which found expression in the follow- 
ing despatch sent at once to Warren: — 

The Major General commanding directs that you 
suspend your operations on the right, and send some 
force to prevent the enemy from pushing past your 
left, near your headquarters. They have driven in 
Cutler in disorder and are following him. 

A. A. Humphreys, 
Major General & Chief of Staff. 

But, as a matter of fact, the enemy had not broken 
our lines seriously, and were not following Cutler. 

The batteries in the fields around the Lacy house, 
and along the Pike, where the little chapel now stands, 
came at once into "action front," the cannoneers 
stepping blithely to their places, and, boldly expec- 
tant, men and guns stood facing toward where his 
men came straggling out of the woods. 

Before I left Meade's headquarters word was sent 
in from Hancock that a column was reported com- 
ing up the Brock Road deploying skirmishers. This 
lowering news on the heels of Cutler's appearance 
was translated by Grant in the light of its premoni- 
tory look. He called for his horse and set out to join 
Hancock where, if at all, the crisis would break. 

So much then for the chronicles of the early morn- 
ing, my attempt to reach Wadsworth, and the events 
with which it had more or less connection. 



IX 



Lee's plans for the use he should make of his forces 
on the renewal of the conflict, in that he aimed a 
crushing blow at his adversary's most vital point, 
were indicative, I am inclined to think, of a clearer 
if not a higher range of soldierly genius than those 
of Grant ordering a general assault all along his lines. 
For Grant's plan to have matched Lee's, he should 
have struck at Lee's most vital point, namely, the 
Chewning farm; but in that case troops would have 
been drawn for the assault from Sedgwick and War- 
ren, to support Burnside's two divisions, and with him 
in chief command ask the fields of Fredericksburg, 
the bridge at Antietam and the mine at Petersburg, 
what would probably have happened. Besides, he 
would have come plump against Longstreet, Ander- 
son, and Mahone on their way to Hill and Ramseur 
to the right of Ewell's line. 

But let all this be as it may, Lee ordered Ewell to 
attack at 4.30, — the very hour Grant had first set 
for resuming the offensive, — his object being to 
divert attention from the Plank Road where he meant 
to make his supreme effort, assuming that Long- 
street, Anderson, and Mahone would certainly be up 
by that time, or shortly after. 

Ewell, accordingly, a little before five o'clock, threw 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 239 

his left brigade against Sedgwick's right; but Sedg- 
wick flung him back with a vengeance, and then by 
determined assault forced him to his very utmost to 
hold his lines. The loss of life on both sides was heavy. 

Griffin in his front drove the enemy's weighty 
skirmish line into their breastworks, which, during 
the night, had been made exceedingly strong, and 
was assembling batteries to shake them before he 
assaulted. 

At five o'clock the signal gun at Hancock's head- 
quarters boomed, and his troops and those of Wads- 
worth, who had been waiting for it, moved promptly, 
the latter through the dense, trammeling woods, 
with Baxter in his centre, Rice on his right, and Cut- 
ler on his left, all facing south for the Plank Road. 
To Birney, an erect, thoughtful-looking man, wear- 
ing a moustache and chin-beard, — the steady light 
of his eyes would have made him notable in any com- 
pany, — Hancock assigned the command of his right. 
It included Birney's own, Mott's and Getty's divi- 
sions, together with Owen's and Carroll's brigades 
of Gibbon's division. He moved with Hays's old 
brigade on the right of the road, its front when de- 
ployed, owing to its losses of the day before, barely 
equal to that of an average regiment. On the left 
was Ward's of his own division and part of Owen's 
brigade. Mott's second brigade was on the left of 
Ward and completed Birney's front line. In the sec- 
ond line was Getty, formed with Wheaton across the 



240 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

road, the valiant Vermonters on his left; and in rear 
of their fellow brigades was Eustis. Carroll was in 
two lines of battle behind all the foregoing that were 
north of the road; and there, too, in line but not mov- 
ing with him, was the Nineteenth Maine of Webb's 
brigade, which had reported to Carroll when the battle 
was raging, in the twilight of the previous evening. 
It was under the command of Selden Connor, late 
Governor of Maine, and rendered great service that 
day, as it had on many a field. When Carroll moved, 
he told Connor to wait for Webb. 

Birney soon struck his foes of the night before, and, 
after some quick, sharp fighting, drove them from 
their hastily-thrown-together defenses, consisting 
of logs, chunks, and brush which they had collected 
during the night. Ward's and Hays's brigades cap- 
turing colors and prisoners. Birney, followed by 
Getty, now pushed on, covering ground very rap- 
idly, allowing the enemy no rest, and gathering in 
prisoners by the score. By this time Hays's brigade 
had obliqued to the left, and was wholly on the south 
side of the road, abreast with its companion brigade. 
Soon Wadsworth, sweeping everything before him, 
emerged from the north, and, wheeling to the right, 
the colors of some of Baxter's brigade mingling with 
those of Hays, Owen, and Ward on the south side 
of the road, joined in the pursuit of the now almost 
routed men of Heth's and Wilcox's divisions, who 
had experienced such heavy losses the night before. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 241 

Birney, finding Wadsworth on the north, drew 
Getty to the south side of the road. Meanwhile 
Cutler was advancing in two or three lines of battle, 
behind the right of Baxter's brigade and the left of 
Rice's, the former's left was across the road, the 
latter's right reaching and curving to the northeast- 
ern slopes of the Tapp field. The momentum of the 
advance had not yet been checked. 

About this time Lyman reached Hancock at the 
junction of the Plank and Brock roads, under orders 
from Meade to report by orderlies the progress of 
events during the day. On making his mission known, 
Hancock cried, "Tell General Meade we are driving 
them most beautifully. Birney has gone in and he is 
just clearing them out beautifully." On Lyman re- 
porting that only one of Burnside's divisions was 
up when he left headquarters, which, as will be re- 
called, were within a few hundred yards of the Pike, 
"I knew it! Just what I expected!" exclaimed Han- 
cock. "If he could attack noWy we could smash A. P. 
Hill all to pieces!" 

Learning of Birney's success, Hancock ordered 
Gibbon to move with Barlow's big, fresh division 
and attack Hill's right. Unfortunately this order was 
not carried out: Gibbon said he never got it — two 
staff oflScers say they delivered it to him. We can- 
not resist the vain regret that Barlow was not moved 
as Hancock wanted him moved, for another story 
would certainly have had to be written; and I have 



242 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

no doubt that to Hancock's dying day this failure 
kept repeating itself out of the fogging coast of the 
Past like a mournful bell on a swinging buoy. 

Ward, Owen, and Hays's old brigade, all that is 
left of it, keeping step to that trumpet of Duty 
which ever spoke to their dead leader, has crushed 
or brushed away Lane, Scales, Walker, and Cooke, 
and is now crowding Thomas back and on to Mc- 
Gowan, who at last, under withering fire from Wads- 
worth, is staggering into the field behind the guns. 

In line behind Birney is Wheaton, and then the 
iron-hearted Vermonters. Coming up on the north 
side of the road is Carroll, his brigade in two lines, 
the crash of the musketry, the battle-field's hottest 
breath, only bringing new fire into his face. Yes, 
he is coming up with that brigade, which, when the 
Confederates in the twilight of the second day at 
Gettysburg broke our lines and were spiking the 
pieces, Hancock called on to regain them. As one 
of those gallant regiments, the Fourth Ohio, had 
boys in it from my old home, with some of whom I 
played in my childhood, there comes back from the 
past a feeling of pride, and tenderness too, for one 
of them, Nelson Conine, was killed that day and 
his body never found. Yes, with pride and tender- 
ness I see them following the heroic Carroll. 

At some distance behind Carroll, Webb, Alexander 
S. Webb, my old West Point instructor, — Heaven 
bless him ! his hair, once so dark, now almost as white 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 243 

as snow, — is leading up his starry brigade, starry 
for its leader and starry for men like Abbott of the 
Twentieth Massachusetts and Connor of the Nine- 
teenth Maine that are behind him. Yes, he is leading 
them up, and nowhere on that field is blood with 
more native chivalry. Hancock, scenting danger, sug- 
gested to Humphreys that he might need help, and 
Stevenson's division of Burnside's corps which Grant 
had intended to hold at the Pike as a reserve was sent 
to him. It arrived at the junction at 8 a. m. 

Meantime Wadsworth has crossed the last morass 
on his side, which, on account of its tortuous course, 
irregular and in places almost declivitous banks, and 
densely matted thickets, made a line of strong de- 
fense. And now his advance is within two or three 
hundred yards of the Widow Tapp field, and Baxter 
and Birney are within a like or less distance of the 
easterly line of the field prolonged. Rice, on the right, 
who asked to be turned toward the enemy when he was 
dying at Spotsylvania a few days later,^ has caught 
sight through the trees of the old field's pearly 
light, and is preparing to charge a battery planted 
among its starting broom-grass. According to General 
Pendleton, Lee's chief of artillery, Poague's battalion 
of four batteries had all taken positions in the field. 

* Rice's leg had just been amputated high up on the thigh, and he 
was lying under a fly on some pine boughs. From his mo\ing lips it was 
seen that he wished to say something, and as the aide leaned over him 
he sighed, "Turn me." "Which way? " asked the aide. "Towards the 
enemy," was the faint reply. They turned him and in a little while he died. 



244 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Birney's sharpshooters south of the road preceding 
his troops and Baxter's are already abreast of the 
east hne of the field, and can get glimpses of the 
meagre, huddled buildings, with their splayed peach 
and knotted plum trees, — whose leaves and the 
sashes in the windows tremble at every discharge of 
the guns, — and are beginning to place their shots 
among the cannoneers of Williams's North Carolina 
battery, belching shell and shrapnel, firing over Mc- 
Gowan and Thomas of Wilcox's division, who, the 
former on the north, the latter on the south, side of 
the road, are still contesting, but on the verge of 
disrupting completely. The field and the day are 
almost ours. 

The Plank Road back to the junction is packed, 
wounded men making their way alone, trying as best 
they can to stanch their wounds, some more seriously 
hurt resting their arms on the shoulders of their fel- 
lows, many on stretchers, with appealing eyes, and 
not a few of them breathing their last. In the throng 
are scores on scores of lank, wildly staring prisoners, 
trailing one another, quickening their step to get be- 
yond the range of their own men's fire; and, breast- 
ing them all, mounted staff officers coming and going 
with all possible speed. Edging alongside the road 
are patient little mules with boxes of ammunition 
strapped to them; and off in the woods on both sides 
of the road the dead are scattered, some not yet cold; 
and off, too, among them is many a poor coward who 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 245 

at heart despises himself but cannot face danger. 
And yet I have not a bit of doubt that here and there 
among them is one who, before yielding a moral con- 
viction, would face the fires of the stake with calm 
equanimity. 

And, all the while, over the motley, fast-breathing, 
torn shreds and tatters of war, a section of our ar- 
tillery, with elevations too low and time-fuses cut 
entirely too short, bursts its shells, shells that are 
intended for the enemy's line, where our men are 
beginning to feel a new pressure, and are fighting 
with increasing desperation, but owing to the char- 
acter of the woods and the ground they have covered, 
they are, so far as organization is concerned, in bad 
shape. At the front there is scarcely the semblance 
of continuous and effective formation ; regiments and 
brigades that started in the rear are now in the front 
and on different flanks; their commanders scattered 
through the woods in little detached, anxious groups, 
a staff officer or two, an orderly with the head- 
quarters guidon. Every one is filled with a desire to 
go ahead, but each one is helpless to remedy the dis- 
organization that is growing greater and more dis- 
tracting at every moment. Wads worth and Getty — 
a determined spare-faced man with a brown mous- 
tache and hazel eye, and who never got all the 
praise he deserved for what he did at critical times on 
so many fields — are in or near the road, the former 
ablaze and looking for a chance to lead a regiment at 



246 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

the first sight of the enemy, — that was his prevailing 
weakness as a commander: he had already had a 
horse killed under him, — the latter cool as usual, al- 
though each moment tells him that a crisis is near. 
For what is that screaming war-cry they hear through 
the increasing roar of the musketry? We need not 
tell them, they know it well: it is the wild fierce yell 
of Gregg's Texans as they greet Lee, and come on 
to meet almost their extermination. 

When the narrative parted with Lee about eleven 
o'clock the night before, he was in his tent on the 
western border of the Widow Tapp's field. Whether 
his night was one of care or sleep we know not, but 
we do know that in the course of the evening he sent 
his accomplished aide, Colonel Venable, with an order 
to Longstreet, in bivouac at Richards's shops, to 
leave the Catharpin Road and strike over to the 
Plank and join Hill at an early hour. About eleven 
o'clock a guide reported to Longstreet; at two a. m. 
he started, following the guide through wood-paths. 
The guide lost the way, but his divisions reached 
the Plank Road at daylight, and then, doubling up, 
quickened their pace, and came down the road 
abreast. Before them the sun was rising very red, 
bronzing the tree-tops; behind them was Richard H. 
Anderson's division of Hill's corps, who had biv- 
ouacked at Verdierville. In all, fourteen fresh bri- 
gades were coming on to strike the hard-fought, torn, 
and wearied divisions of Birney, Wadsworth, and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 247 

Getty, and to struggle with them and Webb, Carroll, 
and Owen, for the mastery of the field. And all this 
time Barlow, Brooke, and Miles, as well as Smyth 
with his gallant Irishmen, are held by Gibbon, ex- 
pecting a part if not all of Longstreet's ten brigades 
to appear on the Brock Road from the direction of 
Todd's Tavern! Does any one who knows Gregg's 
record as a soldier think for a moment that he would 
not have unmasked at a very early hour the first 
steps of a movement of this kind from his position 
at Todd's Tavern? It is true that word had been 
sent in to Hancock during the night that Long- 
street's corps was passing up the Catharpin Road 
to attack his left; but, as a matter of fact, his tired 
troops, as we have seen, having covered twenty-eight 
miles or more, had gone into bivouac at dark some 
eight or ten miles west of the tavern, and were in 
deep, well-earned sleep. 

The record seems to show that Meade, Hancock, 
as well as Gibbon and presumably Humphreys in a 
measure, all harbored a fear that Longstreet, on the 
left, would suddenly appear a portentous spectre, 
forever casting its image on their minds. There is no 
evidence, however, that any such notion had stolen 
into Grant's mind, for, neither at that time, nor ever 
after, was there magic in the name of Longstreet, 
Lee, or any other Confederate, for him. (Warren 
always, when Lee's movements were uncertain and 
a matter of discussion, referred to him as "Bobbie" 



248 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Lee, with an air and tone that said he is not a man 
to be fooled with.) And so, let Longstreet be on the 
road to strike him at whatsoever point, Grant wanted 
Hill and Ewell to be beaten before help could reach 
them; hence his sound conclusion of the night be- 
fore, to attack at daylight. 

Meanwhile, the sun is mounting and Longstreet's 
men are coming on, — not long ago I traveled the 
same road and the limbs of the trees almost mingled 
over it, and the woods on each side were still and deep, 
— can now hear the battle, and are meeting the faint- 
hearted who always fringe the rear at the first signs 
of disaster. They are passing the crowded field-hos- 
pitals, and encountering ambulances, horsemen, 
stragglers, and the ever-increasing stream of wounded; 
and swerving off through the woods on both sides 
of the road are the limp fragments of Heth's division, 
heedless of their oflBcers, who were shouting to gain 
their attention. And now comes one of Lee's aides, 
making his way urgently to Parker's store to tell 
the trains to get ready to withdraw, and another to 
Longstreet to hurry up, for, unless he comes quickly, 
the day is lost. At this appeal the men break into 
the double-quick, and Kershaw, whose division is per- 
haps a hundred yards ahead of that of Field, rides 
forward with a staff officer of General Wilcox who 
has been sent to show him his position. But before 
they reach W^ilcox's line, it breaks, and Kershaw, 
seeing it coming, hurries back to meet his division. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 249 

Out in the old field Lee, Hill, and their staffs are 
throwing themselves in front of the fleeing troops, 
imploring them to rally. From all accounts, Lee's 
face was a sky of storm and anxiety, and well it 
might be, for Catastrophe was knocking at the door. 
When McGowan passed him Lee exclaimed, "My 
God! General McGowan! is this splendid brigade of 
yours running like a flock of geese?" 

It is now a question of minutes. The rolling mus- 
ketry is at its height, one roar after another break- 
ing, sheets of bullets are thridding the air, and a half- 
dozen cannon are firing rapidly blasting-charges of 
double canister, for our men are close up. 

Kershaw throws all of Henagan's brigade, save 
the Second South Carolina, well to the left of the 
road; that he deploys on the right under the fire of 
Birney's troops, who are penetrating the woods to 
the left of the Confederate batteries. His next bri- 
gade, Humphreys's, is rushing up, its left on the south 
side of the road, Henagan having swung off, making 
room for him in the immediate front of our most 
advanced line. Field throws his first brigade, G. T. 
Anderson's, to the right of the road; but before this 
movement could be followed, Longstreet, who was 
on hand, with his usual imperturbable coolness, so 
says Venable, tells Field to form and charge with 
any front he can make. Accordingly in an instant 
he puts his second brigade, the Texans, in line of bat- 
tle under Gregg. There were three General Greggs on 



250 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

the field, this one the Confederate, and on our side 
David and Irvin, brothers from Pennsylvania. 

Just as they start, Lee catches sight of them and 
gallops up and asks sharply, "What brigade is this ?'* 
"The Texas brigade," is the resolute response. " Gen- 
eral Lee raised himself in his stirrups," — so said a 
courier, in " The Land We Love," only a few years after 
the war, — "uncovered his gray hairs, and with an 
earnest yet anxious voice exclaimed above the din, 
*My Texas boys, you must charge.' A yell rent the 
air," and the men dashed forward through the wreck- 
age of Hill's corps and under a stinging fire from our 
sharpshooters. On they go, and now they have passed 
through Williams's guns, their muzzles still smoking, 
when suddenly they hear, "Charge, charge, men!" 
from a new, full voice, and there behind them is Lee 
himself, his warm brown eyes aflame. "Come back, 
come back, General Lee!" cry out the cannoneers 
earnestly; he does not heed and rides on; but a 
sergeant now takes hold of Traveller's rein. — It is 
a great pity that we have not a picture of that ser- 
geant's face as he turns the big gray horse around and 
exchanges a firm, kindly glance with his rider. — Lee 
yields to his better judgment and joins Longstreet 
who, on the knoll near by, is throwing his brigades 
in as he did at Gettysburg, with the calmness of a 
man who is wielding a sledge. 

Field, the large, handsome "Charley" Field of our 
West Point days, he who rode so proudly at the head 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 251 

of the escort for the late King of England when he 
came as a boy to visit the Point, — I wonder, if 
Field in the reveries of his old age, while basking in 
the memories of departed days, whether it was Ben- 
ning's Georgians or the battalion of West Point cadets 
he saw himself leading, — oh, what children of Des- 
tiny we are! — But on he comes with Benning, who 
is following the track of the Texans, who are alone, 
and after smashing through Wadsworth's lines find 
themselves enfiladed by a terrible fire from the south 
side of the road against which the Fourth Texas was 
sent but could not stop it, and was only saved from 
annihilation by Kershaw's advance. Perry, command- 
ing Law's brigade of Field's division, is turning from 
the Plank Road into the Widow Tapp field at double- 
quick, and beginning to form spryly. His Fifteenth 
Alabama passes within a few feet of Lee, behind 
whom, on their horses, are a group of his staff. His 
face is still flushed — he has just returned from try- 
ing to lead the Texans — and his blazing eyes are 
fixed intently on Kershaw's leading regiment that 
is forming line of battle and through whose ranks the 
retreating masses of Heth's and Wilcox's divisions 
are breaking. Aroused by this jeopardous disorder, 
he turns suddenly in his saddle toward his staff, and, 
pointing his gloved hand across the road, says in 
vigorous tones, "Send an active young staff oflScer 
down there." Then, casting his eyes on the ragged men 
filing by him, he asks kindly, "What men are these?" 



252 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

A private answers proudly, "Law's Alabama bri- 
gade." Lee bares his gray hairs once more and re- 
plies, "God bless the Alabamians!" They, with 
colors slanting forward, grasp their arms tightly and 
swing on, the left obliquing till it brushes the young 
pines along the northern side of the old opening. 
Already from the smoke-turbaned woods ahead of 
them come bleeding and mangled Texans and Geor- 
gians, their blood striping across the garden, the door- 
yard, and the path to the well of the Widow Tapp's 
humble abode; but on with increasing speed toward 
the dead-strewn front march the brave Alabamians. 
And who is this officer on the litter? Benning; 
Gregg has already been borne to the rear. And now 
what organization is that we see coming into line, 
there on the western edge of the field beyond Lee 
and Longstreet, obstructed by Hill's retreating frag- 
ments.'* That is "Charley" Field's largest brigade, 
made up entirely of South Carolinians. And the 
colors over them? The Palmetto Flag, the ensign and 
pride of their contumacious, insubordinate state, the 
first to nurse the spirit which has led the dear Old 
Dominion and her sister states into their woe. As 
usual, it is fluttering mutinously, hankering to en- 
gage the Stars and Stripes, which has not forgotten 
that this Palmetto ensign flaunted over the first guns 
to fire on it, as it flew, the emblem of Union and Peace, 
flew warm with the hopes of the obscure of all civ- 
ilized lands, and dreaming of the day when every flag 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 253 

of the world shall do it homage. And at its very sight 
the nation's colors blaze up with righteous hostility; 
and as where or whensoever seen, in the Wilderness 
or at Gettysburg or Chickamauga, the old banner of 
Washington's day with a voice like an eagle's shriek, 
cries "Come on. Palmetto Flag!" Audio! to-day, to 
the credit of our common natures, the two banners 
are reconciled. 

The onset of Gregg's Texans was savage, — it 
could not have been less after asking Lee to go back. 
They dashed at Wadsworth's riddled front, through 
which the battery had been cutting swaths; and be- 
sides that, two 12-pound guns and one 24-pound 
howitzer had run forward into the Plank Road and 
were pouring their canister into his huddled and crum- 
bling flanks. Fatigue and want of coherence were 
breaking down the fighting power of his men, yet 
they met this shock with great fortitude. Cope, and 
he was right there, said in a despatch to Warren, 
"Wadsworth has been slowly pushed back, but 
is contesting every inch of the ground"; and it was 
not until Benning and Perry struck them that they 
began to waver, then break, and finally disrupt in 
great confusion. About half of them, under Rice 
and Wadsworth, fled back across the morass to the 
last line of logs and chunks from which they had 
driven the enemy; the other half with Cutler took 
the course they had come the previous evening. The 
narrative has already told where they were met. 



254 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

While these troops were breaking, Carroll, not yet 
engaged, was ordered by Birney in person to send 
some of his brigade back to the north side, he having 
moved by flank across to the south of the road, hav- 
ing heard heavy firing in that direction. He sent the 
Eighth Ohio, Fourteenth Indiana, and Seventh West 
Virginia. Thus, apparently, at that moment the 
north side of the road was clear for Field ; but he could 
not push his advantage, for Birney, Ward, and 
Coulter, who had taken Baxter's place after he 
was wounded, held Kershaw stubbornly. Moreover, 
Owen, followed by the Nineteenth Maine of Webb's 
brigade, who had reported to Carroll the night be- 
fore, had gained a position on the immediate south 
side of the road, and was firing into Benning's and 
Perry's right, causing them to suffer severely. 

"The enemy held my three brigades so obstin- 
ately," says Kershaw, "that, urged forward by Long- 
street, I placed myself at the head of the troops and 
led in person a charge of the whole command, which 
drove the enemy to and beyond their original lines." 

This position was just about opposite to where 
Wadsworth was now collecting the fragments of his 
command on the north side of the road, and was held 
by Carroll and the Vermonters, and these men Ker- 
shaw could not budge. Grimes and Wofford, who had 
advanced on Kershaw's right, had not made mate- 
rial headway against McAlister on Mott's left, but 
they had discovered what finally almost gave them 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS Q55 

the day, that our lines did not extend to the unfin- 
ished railroad, in fact they did not reach over a half- 
mile, if that, from the Plank Road. 

In the midst of Kershaw's onslaught Getty was 
wounded, and Lyman in his notes says, "Getty rode 
past me looking pale; to my inquiry he said, 'I am 
shot through the shoulder, I don't know how badly.' 
A man [goes on Lyman] of indomitable courage and 
coolness. One of his aides (the fair-haired one) shot 
through the arm, the other, his horse shot. Immortal 
fighting did that Second Division, Sixth Corps, on 
those two bloody days." 

While Carroll, the Vermont brigade, and the stout- 
hearted of all the broken commands that had rallied 
behind them, were standing off Kershaw, up the road 
comes Webb at the head of his gallant brigade. Wads- 
worth and Birney are there, trying to form troops 
for an advance. "There were several commands and 
no orderly arrangement as to lines, front, etc.," says 
Governor Connor. On reporting to Birney, Webb is 
directed to deploy on the right of the road and move 
forward and join Getty, whom Birney had asked 
to send some strength to the north side of the road. 
Webb deploys, and on he comes; the Nineteenth Maine 
have gladly reunited with their comrades and been put 
on the extreme right. On the left is the Twentieth 
Massachusetts under Abbott. "Waved my hand to 
Abbott," says Lyman, "as he rode past at the head of 
the Twentieth, smiling gayly." Smile on, dear heroic 



256 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

young fellow! Your smile will play on many a page, 
and the Wilderness holds it dear; for her heart is 
with you, and in years to come, when the dogwood 
and the wild roses are blooming, she will softly breathe 
your name through the tree-tops as she recalls that 
smile. Oh, how close we are to woods and streams, 
the traveling winds, the banded evening clouds, and, 
yes, even the distant stars ! 

On comes Webb, his line strung out through the 
woods, no skirmishers ahead, for he is expecting mo- 
mentarily to come up with Getty, when suddenly 
there is a terrific crash, causing a fearful loss. But, 
standing among the wounded and the dying, his 
brigade holds fast and returns the fire; the enemy 
are just across the morass, in places not more than 
twenty or thirty yards away. He has come squarely 
up against what is left of Gregg's, Benning's, and 
about all of Perry's fresh brigade. Woolsey of Meade's 
staff sends back word: "7.27 a. m. Webb, who went 
in a short time since, is doing very well. The fire is 
very heavy, but not gaining. Wounded returning 
on Plank Road. 7.35. The fire is slackening and our 
men cheer. 7.40. The firing is heaviest on the right 
of the Plank Road [Webb's] ; our men are cheering 
again." And there they battle back and forward 
amid a continuous roar of musketry; not they alone, 
for Kershaw, knowing that Lee's and Longstreet's 
eyes are on him, is crowding his men desperately 
against Carroll's and Birney's and Mott's iron- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 257 

hearted veterans, and those ever steadfast sons of 
the Green Mountain State. The bark-scored and 
bullet-pitted trees around them are wreathed in 
smoke, and, like sheaves of wheat, bodies are lying 
on the leaf-strewn ground, unconscious now of the 
deafening crashes with which the gloomy Wilderness 
jars far and wide, and roars to the over-arching, lis- 
tening sky. 

There can be no doubt that Webb's desperate 
fighting saved the north side of the Plank Road at 
this crisis by checking Field's three brigades — 
Gregg's, Benning's, and Law's, the latter under Gen- 
eral William F. Perry, to whom the credit may be 
given of saving the north side of the Widow Tapp 
field from Kitching's grasp who had come up from 
the Lacy house to help Wadsworth. This Perry ac- 
complished by throwing against Kitching his left 
regiment, the Fifteenth Alabama, Colonel Gates, 
as he advanced on his way to support Benning and 
Gregg. Gates having rejoined his fellow regiments 
after repulsing Kitching, and Perrin's Alabama and 
the Florida brigade of Anderson's division having 
reported, and all taking a hand at Webb's line, he 
found his right overlapped and changed front to rear 
at double-quick on his left regiment, the Twentieth 
Massachusetts resting on the road, and stood them 
off. 

Meanwhile Hancock, having been notified by 
Meade that Burnside was about to attack Field's 



258 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

flank, sent for Wadsworth and told him that he had 
ordered three brigades, Webb's, Ward's, and Car- 
ruth's, of Stevenson's division, to report to him, 
and wished that he with these additional troops would 
carry, if possible, the enemy's position on the right- 
hand side of the road. In Carruth's brigade was my 
friend Frank Bartlett's regiment, the Fifty-seventh 
of Massachusetts and the Fifty-sixth under Colonel 
Griswold. On their way to the front a member of 
Griswold's regiment — commanded by S. M. Weld of 
Boston after Griswold's death that morning — gave 
drink like a good Samaritan to a wounded Confeder- 
ate, who, as soon as the line passed him, seized a 
musket and began to fire on the very men who had 
been kind to him. With righteous indignation they 
turned and exterminated the varmint; and then on 
with renewed determination to have it out with their 
country's enemies. 

The intrepid Wadsworth, returning to the front, 
and seeing the Twentieth Massachusetts athwart 
the road where Webb had left it, his vehement spirit 
set on fire by Hancock's ardent and communicative 
aggressiveness, asked in pungent, challenging tones, 
"Cannot you do something here?" Abbott hesitat- 
ing, mindful of W^ebb's order to hold that point at 
all hazards, the high-spirited Wadsworth, who by 
nature was more an individual combatant than the 
cool and trained commander, leaped the little bar- 
rier of rotten planks torn from the decaying road-bed, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 259 

and of course Abbott and the Twentieth followed 
him. Wadsworth's second horse was killed, and the 
regiment was met immediately with a withering vol- 
ley. After striving in vain to drive the enemy, Abbott 
had to desist from further efforts. He then ordered 
the men to lie down so as to escape a wicked, sputter- 
ing fire; but he himself, young and handsome, coolly 
and without bravado walked back and forth before 
his line, his eyes and face lit by the finest candle that 
glows in the hand of Duty. "My God, Schaff," said 
to me the brave Captain Magnitsky of the Twentieth, 
with moistened eyes, "I was proud of him as back 
and forth he slowly walked before us." A shot soon 
struck him and he fell. They tenderly picked up the 
mortally wounded, gallant gentleman and carried him 
to the rear. Bartlett reached Webb about the time 
he had changed front forward onto the sorely stricken 
Twentieth and formed in rear of his left centre. It 
was now about 9.30. Wadsworth, catching sight of 
Bartlett 's colors flying defiantly in the face of Field's 
oncoming veterans, called on him in person to charge 
over some troops weakened by repulses, who were 
hesitating — and he and his men responded well. I 
can hear Bartlett's voice ringing, "Forward," and see 
his spare, well-bred face lit up dauntlessly by those 
intense blue eyes; eyes I have seen glint more than 
once with pleasant humor, for he had, besides cour- 
age, the spirit of comradeship, that pleasant, cloud- 
reflecting stream, rippling and green banked, that 



260 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

flows through our natures. But in a Httle while a shot 
struck him in the temple, and he followed his college 
friend, Abbott, to the field hospital; — he had already 
lost his left leg at Yorktown, and been seriously 
wounded in two places leading an assault at Port 
Hudson. The regiment lost 252 killed and wounded. 

Wadsworth, after the charge, exclaimed, "Glori- 
ous!" but, like all the gains, theirs was temporary. 
For Field's fresh veterans coming up from where 
Burnside should have held them, he attacked fiercely; 
yet, try as he might, Webb finally fought him to a 
standstill. And so was it on the other side of the road : 
Carroll, Grant, and Birney's remnants, and McAlis- 
ter of Mott's division, had thrown Kershaw and 
Wofford back till they, too, were glad to stop for a 
while. 

At the mention of McAlister's name my sense of 
humor asks, "Can't you stop the narrative long 

enough to tell about General ?" This general 

represented Gibbon's lone response to Hancock's 
order to attack at seven o'clock up the bed of the 
unfinished railroad with Barlow's division. He was 
a whiskey-pickled, lately-arrived, blusterous German, 
and when he reached McAlister on the left of the 
line, he wanted to burst right through, saying his or- 
ders were, "To find the enemy wherever he could find 
him and whip him ! ! ./" Having blown this trombone 
Germanic blast, he spurred his nag and dashed at 
the "rebels." Pretty soon he sent to McAlister to 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 261 

come up and relieve him, which McAlister refused to 
do, when back came part of the brigade running, 
and Blank with them. " I want to get ammunition," he 
exclaimed. "Where.'*" asked McAlister. "Away back 
in the rear," he shouted as off he went. "That was 
the last I saw of him or his command," says McAlis- 
ter. Notwithstanding there is a considerable strain of 
German blood in my veins, there is something about 
the swelling assertive military airs of that nationality 
which is very humorous and at the same time very 
nauseating. But I suppose really that McAlister ought 
to have given the poor fellow a little aid, if, for no 
other reason, than that his land sent so many Hes- 
sians here during the Revolution. 



X 



When the narrative was halted it was saying that 
the Confederates and ourselves were glad to stop 
for a while. It was now going on ten o'clock, and 
there was a lull all along the lines. And while it lasts, 
let us turn to Hancock, not forgetting that while Bir- 
ney and Wadsworth and Webb were engaging so 
fiercely, he was beset with distracting and untoward 
happenings "in good measure, pressed down and 
shaken together and running over." At nine o'clock, 
while his attention is strained on the renewed offensive 
up the Plank Road, this despatch from Humphreys is 
handed to him: "Sheridan has been ordered to attack 
Longstreet's flank and rear by the Brock Road." 
"Longstreet's flank and rear by the Brock Road!" he 
repeats to himself; "Humphreys must have located 
him definitely; and yet we have prisoners from his 
corps." Just then to help confirm Humphreys's news 
the distant boom of Custer's guns comes through the 
smothering timber; and the footsteps of the haunting 
peril that has been dogging Hancock all the morning 
are closer than ever. 

To clear up the reference to Custer's guns it should 
be told that under Sheridan's orders he had left Chan- 
cellorsville at 2 a. m. for the intersection of the Fur- 
nace and Brock roads, which, as the map will show. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 263 

is about a mile beyond where Hancock's return 
line of breastworks crossed the latter. He reached 
there just in time to head off Rosser and Fitz Lee 
from laying hold of this important point, 
i Gregg, one of the best and most reliable of our cav- 
alry commanders, was at Todd's Tavern looking out 
for Stuart, Merritt, commanding the Regular Cavalry 
brigade, within reach. Wilson who had been drawn 
back to Chancellorsville during the night, after re- 
newal of ammunition and supplies, had posted one 
of his brigades at Piney Branch Church and the other 
at Aldrich's. 

I cannot mention the names of Wilson and Custer 
and Merritt without seeing their faces again as cadets, 
and feeling a wave of warm memories. God bless 
the living; and Trumpets, peal once more for me, if 
you will, over Custer's grave. 

So much then for the guns which Hancock heard 
as he read Humphreys's despatch that Sheridan was 
about to attack Longstreet, Humphreys's aide had 
just gone when here came Hancock's own trusted 
aide, the one to whom he always turned for final 
decision of any fact. Colonel Morgan, who reported 
that the enemy were actually advancing on the Brock 
Road. I think I can see Hancock, for I was near him 
during one of the charges at Spottsylvania and know 
that kind of news was received. He orders Birney 
to send a brigade at once to Gibbon (bear in mind 
that it is a little after nine, and that we have seen 



264 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

that Birney has need of every man along his bullet- 
sheeted front). Birney detaches Eustis's brigade of 
the Sixth Corps, and starts it toward the junction. 
A few minutes elapse, and Hancock tells Carroll to 
send a regiment; and, probably hearing another of 
Custer's guns, he sets the resolute Brooke in motion, 
and with him Coulter, who has gathered the remains 
of Baxter's brigade — the one which the light-haired 
and light-moustached, medium -sized and trim Ker- 
shaw first struck, and which had drifted back out 
of action. Before Eustis reaches the junction, along 
comes Leasure's delayed brigade of Stevenson's 
division, and Hancock tells them to keep right on 
down the road and help Gibbon; — Eustis, ap- 
proaching the Brock, and seeing Leasure's column 
hurrying by, knows he must not break through, and 
halts. Hancock, having a moment to think, con- 
cludes that Gibbon, aided by Tidball with practi- 
cally all the artillery of the corps, and the troops 
already on the way to him, can take care of Long- 
street, directs Eustis to countermarch and go back 
to his fellows under Wadsworth and Birney. 

Hancock has a moment's respite, but here comes 
ill-faced Trouble again. What is it, Creature ? 
" Humphreys orders you to take immediate steps to 
repair the break the enemy has made through War- 
ren's lef t " (referring to Cutler) . " Great God ! What 's 
happened there?" I can hear him say, and off he 
propels an aide to Birney to send two brigades to his 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 265 

right to fill Cutler's gap. And that order is no sooner 
sent than here comes a message from Meade, saying 
that he hopes that nothing will delay or prevent his 
attacking simultaneously with Burnside! 

Fight Longstreet as he comes up the Brock Road! 
attack simultaneously with Burnside! detach two 
brigades from Birney to fill a gap ! Surely Hancock's 
measure of trials was pressed down and running over; 
and lo! Longstreet was not on the Brock Road at 
all, there was no gap in Warren's lines, and Burnside 
was nowhere near attacking, simultaneously or other- 
wise. — Meade ought to have remembered how long 
it took "Old Burn" to get ready at Antietam. 

But cheer up, gallant Hancock! The hour-glass of 
your tormenting perplexities is about run out. Gib- 
bon has discovered at last (10.10 a. m.) that the enemy 
he had seen looming up on the Brock Road are 
several hundred hospital-bleached convalescents, who, 
by some stupid provost-marshal at Chancellorsville, 
have been allowed to follow the corps' march of the 
day before around by way of Todd's Tavern. 

Upon discovering that the dreaded infantry were 
these limp convalescents, and not Longstreet's vet- 
erans, I have no doubt that the wrinkled-browed, 
closely-cropped, reddish-bearded Gibbon breathed a 
long sigh of relief, and at once flew with the news to 
Hancock. Well, of course I do not know just what 
happened, but I have no doubt that the oaks about 
the junction remember Hancock's explosion well, 



266 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS ' 

or that the recording angel suddenly found himself 
busy, and, when his pen could n't keep up, looked 
downward, — apparently there was no end to the 
emphatic procession in sight, — and, feeling kindly 
toward Hancock, knowing he was a brave, warm- 
hearted fellow who would reach his hand compas- 
sionately to a stricken enemy, and that he had been 
badly pestered, closed the books and deliberately 
turned on an electrical buzzer, and cut off all com- 
munication with the Wilderness. And behold, when 
the books were opened again, some great hand — on 
the plea of the Centurion, I have no doubt — had 
written "Excused" after every one of the entries. 

I cannot recall an instance during the war when 
any corps commander had such a badgering hour as 
Hancock that second morning in the Wilderness. 
He was naturally impulsive, and when he could not 
see his enemy, or, in other words, when he was in the 
woods, he was like an eagle with drenched wings and 
very restless. 

Meanwhile the lull that has heretofore been re- 
ferred to is going on, in places the woods are afire, 
and Wadsworth has dismounted and is alone with 
Monteith of his staff, who says: "He [Wadsworth] 
told me that he felt completely exhausted and worn 
out, that he was unfit (physically) to command, and 
felt that he ought in justice to himself and his men 
to turn the command over to Cutler. He asked me 
to get him a cracker, which I did." 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 267 

And while this gray-haired patriot and gentleman 
and the North's nearest aristocrat and nobleman is 
resting for the few minutes that are left of his heroic 
life, let us see what advantage Longstreet was taking 
of this ominous lull. 

General M. L. Smith, a New Yorker and a distin- 
guished graduate of West Point, doing engineer duty 
with Lee's army, had examined our left, and, finding 
it inviting attack, so reported to Longstreet. Now 
there is on Longstreet's staflf a tall, trim, graceful 
young Georgian, with keen dark eyes and engaging 
face, whose courage and ability to command, Long- 
street knows well, for he has been with him on many 
a field. His name is Sorrel, and his gallant clay is ly- 
ing in the cemetery at Savannah, the long, pendulant 
Southern moss swaying softly over it. His "Recol- 
lections of a Confederate Staff Officer" has forme, 
like all the books I love, a low, natural, wild music; 
and, as sure as I live, the spirits who dwell in that 
self-sown grove called Literature were by his side 
when he wrote the last page of his Recollections, his 
pen keeping step with his beating heart. Longstreet, 
on hearing Smith's report, called Sorrel to him, and 
told him to collect some scattered brigades, form 
them in a good line on our left, and then, with his 
right pushed forward, to hit hard. "But don't start 
till you have everything ready. I shall be waiting 
for your gun-fire, and be on hand with fresh troops for 
further advance," said Longstreet. 



268 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Sorrel picked up G. T. Anderson's, Wofford's, Da- 
vis's of Heth's, and Mahone's brigades, and led them to 
the old unfinished railroad bed ; and, having stretched 
them out on it, formed them, facing north, for ad- 
vance. Of course, had Gibbon obeyed Hancock's or- 
der, this movement of Sorrel's could not have been 
made; as it was, the coast was clear. On Birney's 
left, as everywhere along the front, our forces were in 
several broken lines, and those of the first had changed 
places with the second, to take advantage of the lit- 
tle fires at which they had boiled their coffee to boil 
some for themselves; for many of the troops had not 
had a bite since half -past three in the morning, and 
it was now past eleven. Save the skirmish line, the 
men were lying down, and not expecting any danger, 
when suddenly, from the heavy undergrowth. Sorrel's 
three widely-winged brigades burst on their flank 
with the customary yell, and before our people could 
change front, or, in some cases, even form, they were 
on them. Fighting McAlister tried his best to stay 
the tempest, and so did others, many little groups 
of their men selling their lives dearly; for the color- 
bearers planted their banners on nearly every knoll, 
and brave young fellows would rally around them; 
but being overpowered, panic set in, and the lines 
melted away. 

As soon as Carroll, Lewis A. Grant, Birney, Webb, 
and Wadsworth heard Sorrel's quick volleys, they 
were all on their feet at once, for the character of the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 269 

firing and the cheers told them that Peril had snapped 
its chain and was loose. In a few minutes fleeing in- 
dividuals, then squads, and then broken regiments, 
began to pour through the woods from the left. 

Kershaw and Field, being notified by Longstreet 
to resume the offensive as soon as they should hear 
Sorrel, now pressed forward, seriously and exultingly 
active. Wadsworth, to stay the threatening disaster 
(for that lunatic, Panic, travels fast, and every officer 
of experience dreads its first breath), flew to the 
Thirty-seventh Massachusetts at the head of Eustis's 
brigade, which was just getting back from the junc- 
tion, and ordered Edwards, a resolute man, to throw 
his regiment across the front of Field, who, with sev- 
eral pieces of artillery raking the road, was advan- 
cing. The Thirty-seventh moved quickly by flank 
into the woods, and then, undismayed, heard the 
command, "Forward." And with it went my friends. 
Lieutenants Casey and Chalmers, and that pleasant 
and true one of many a day, Captain "Tom" Colt 
of Pittsfield, whose mother was a saint. "You have 
made a splendid charge!" exclaimed Wadsworth, 
and so they had — the ground behind them showed 
it; they thrust Field back, gaining a little respite for 
all hands before disaster; and very valuable it proved 
to be, for some of the broken commands thereby 
escaped utter destruction. 

While Field and Kershaw assailed Carroll, Birney, 
and Wadsworth fiercely, fire was racing through the 



270 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

woods, adding its horrors to Sorrel's advance; and 
with the wind driving the smoke before him, he came 
on, sweeping everything. Seeing his lines falter. 
Sorrel dashed up to the color-bearer of the Twelfth 
Virginia, "Ben" May, and asked for the colors to 
lead the charge. *'We will follow you," said the 
smiling youth spiritedly, refusing to give them up; 
and so they did. In the midst of the raging havoc, 
Webb, under instructions from Wadsworth, now in 
an almost frantic state of mind, tried to align 
some troops beyond the road so as to meet Sor- 
rel, whose fire was scourging the flanks of Carroll 
and the Green Mountain men, through whom and 
around whom crowds of fugitives, deaf to all appeals 
to rally, were forcing their way to the rear. But the 
organizations, so severely battered in the morning, 
were crumbling so fast, and the tumult was so high, 
that Webb saw it was idle to expect they could hold 
together in any attempted change of position ; he there- 
fore returned to his command, and quickly brought 
the Fifty-sixth Massachusetts, Griswold's regiment, 
alongside the road. Fortunately his Nineteenth Maine, 
withdrawn during the lull to replenish its ammuni- 
tion, had been wheeled up by the gallant Connor at 
the first ominous volley from the South. They had 
barely braced themselves on the road before Carroll, 
and then the old Vermont brigade, had to go; and 
now Connor and Griswold open on Sorrel, checking 
him up roundly. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 271 

Wadsworth undertook to wheel the remnants of 
Rice's regiments who had stood by him, so as to fire 
into the enemy on the other side of the road. In try- 
ing to make this movement he ran squarely onto Per- 
rin's Alabama brigade, of Anderson's division, which 
had relieved a part of Field's, who rose and fired a 
volley with fatal effect, breaking Wadsworth's forma- 
tion, the men fleeing in wild confusion. In this Ala- 
bama brigade was the Eighth Regiment, commanded 
that morning by Hilary A. Herbert who lost his arm. 
This gallant man, soldier, member of Congress, and 
distinguished lawyer was Mr. Cleveland's Secretary 
of the Navy. 

The heroic Wadsworth did not or could not check 
his horse till within twenty odd feet of the Confeder- 
ate line. Then, turning, a shot struck him in the back 
of the head, his brain spattering the coat of Earl M. 
Rogers, his aide at his side. The rein of Wadsworth's 
horse, after the general fell, caught in a snag, and, 
Rogers's horse having been killed by the volley, he 
vaulted into the saddle, and escaped through the 
flying balls. Wadsworth lies unconscious within the 
enemy's lines; his heart, that has always beaten so 
warmly for his country, is still beating, but hears no 
response now from the generous, manly, truth-view- 
ing brain. I believe that morning, noon, and night 
the bounteous valley of the Genesee, with its rolling 
fields and tented shocks of bearded grain, holds 
Wadsworth in dear remembrance. 



272 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Everything on the right of the Nineteenth Maine, 
Fifty-sixth and Thirty-seventh Massachusetts is 
gone, and they, with fragments of other gallant regi- 
ments, will soon have to go, too, for Sorrel comes on 
again with a rush. Griswold, pistol in hand, advances 
the colors to meet him, and is killed almost instantly; 
Connor, on foot and in the road, is struck and, as he 
falls, Webb calls out, "Connor, are you hit?" "Yes, 
I've got it this time." And his men sling him in a 
blanket and carry him to the rear. Webb, seeing the 
day is lost, tells the bitterly-tried regiments to scat- 
ter, and the wreckage begins to drift sullenly far and 
wide, some in Cutler's tracks, and some toward where 
Burnside is still pottering; but naturally the main 
stream is back on both sides of the Plank to the 
Brock Road, and there it straggles across it hope- 
lessly toward Chancellorsville. Chaplain Washiell, 
Fifty-seventh Massachusetts, says, "I well remem- 
ber the route as the men streamed by in panic, some 
of them breaking their guns to render them useless in 
the hands of the rebels. Nothing could stop them 
until they came to the cross-roads." 

Where now is the morning's vision of victory which 
Babcock raised? All of Hancock's right wing, to- 
gether with Wadsworth's division of the Fifth Corps, 
Getty's of the Sixth, and one brigade of the Ninth all 
smashed to pieces! The Plank Road is Lee's, — and 
the Brock, the strategic key, is almost within his grasp 
too! For Longstreet, followed by fresh brigades at 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 273 

double-quick, is coming down determined to clinch 
the victory! ! His spirits are high, and Field's hand 
still tingles with his hearty grasp congratulating him 
on the valor of his troops. Jenkins, a sensitive, enthu- 
siastic South Carolinian, "abreast with the foremost 
in battle and withal an humble Christian," says Long- 
street, has just thrown his arms around Sorrel's shoul- 
der, — for the graceful hero has ridden to meet his 
chief, and tell him the road is clear, — and says, "Sor- 
rel, it was splendid, we shall smash them now." And 
then, after conferring with Kershaw, who had already 
been directed to follow on and complete Hancock's 
overthrow, Jenkins rides up to Longstreet's side and 
with overflowing heart says, "I am happy. I have felt 
despair of the cause for some months, but am relieved 
and feel assured that we shall put the enemy back 
across the Rapidan before night." Put the enemy 
back across the Rapidan! That means the Army of 
the Potomac defeated again, and Grant's prestige 
gone ! ! 

Yes ! It is a great moment for Jenkins and for them 
all. The overcast sky that has been so dark has rifted 
open, and the spire of the Confederacy's steeple daz- 
zles once more in sunshine. And while it dazzles and 
youth comes again into the wan cheek of the Confed- 
eracy, gaunt Slavery, frenzied with delight over her 
prospective reprieve, snatches a cap from a dead, fair- 
browed Confederate soldier, and clapping it on her 
coarse, rusty, gray-streaked mane, begins to dance in 



274 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

hideous glee out on the broom-grass of the Widow 
Tapp's old field. 

Dance on, repugnant and doomed creature ! The in- 
exorable eye of the Spirit of the Wilderness is on you ! 
Dance on! For in a moment Longstreet, like *' Stone- 
wall," will be struck down by the same mysterious 
hand, by the fire of his own men, and the clock in the 
steeple of the Confederacy will strike twelve. And, as 
its last stroke peals, knelling sadly away, a tall spare 
figure, — where are the tints in her cheeks now? — clad 
in a costly shroud, and holding a dead rose in her hand, 
will enter the door of History, and you, you. Slavery, 
will be dying, gasping, your glazing eyes wide open, 
staring into the immensity of your wrongs. And when 
your last weary pulse has stopped, and your pallid 
lips are apart and set for good and all, no friendly 
hand will be there to close them, — oh, the face you 
will wear! — the eye of the Spirit of the Wilderness 
will turn from you with a strange, impenetrable 
gleam. For White and Black, bond and free, rich and 
poor; the waving trees, the leaning fields with their 
nibbling flocks, the mist-cradling little valleys with 
their grassy-banked runs, gleaming and murmuring in 
the moonlight; the tasseling corn and the patient, 
neglected, blooming weed by the dusty roadside, — 
all, all are the children of the same great, plastic, lov- 
ing hand which Language, Nature's first and deepest 
interpreter, her widely listening ear catching waves of 
sound from the immeasurable depths of the Firma- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WH^DERNESS 275 

ment, has reverently called God; all, all through him 
are bound by common ties. 

Hancock's first warning that something serious had 
happened was the sight of Frank's brigade, and the 
left of Mott's division, tearing through to the Brock 
Road. But now the full stream of wreckage begins 
to float by him at the junction, and he realizes that 
disaster has come to his entire right front. "A large 
part of the whole line came back," says Lyman. 
"They have no craven terror, but for the moment 
will not fight, nor even rally. Drew my sword and 
tried to stop them, but with small success." 

Colonel Lyman, a tall, lean man with a gracious, 
naturally cordial manner, an energetic and careful 
observer, and far and away the best educated oflScer 
connected with any staff in the army, rode in and re- 
ported the state of affairs to Meade, who at once, 
realizing the appalling possibilities, directed Hunt to 
place batteries on the ridge east of the run, the trains 
at Chancellorsville to fall back to the river, and Sheri- 
dan to draw in his cavalry to protect them. "Grant, 
who was smoking stoically under a pine," says Ly- 
man, "expressed himself annoyed and surprised that 
Burnside did not attack — especially as Comstock 
was with him as engineer and staff oflBcer to show him 
the way." 

Meanwhile men were pouring from the woods like 
frightened birds from a roost. The tide across the 
Brock Road was at its height, and it was only when 



276 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Hancock appealed to Carroll, who had halted his 
brigade on arriving at the road, to give him a point 
for rallying, that he and his staff met with any en- 
couragement. "Troops to the right and left of the 
brigade," states the historian of the Fourth Ohio, 
"were falling rapidly back beyond it." Carroll (like all 
the Carrolls of Carrollton that I have known, he had 
reddish hair and his classmates at West Point dubbed 
him "Brick") rode among the dispirited, retreating 
groups, shouting, "For God's sake, don't leave my 
men to fight the whole rebel army. Stand your 
ground!" for he expected Lee to strike at any mo- 
ment. But how strange! W'hy do his fresh troops 
not come on and burst through, while Hancock, Car- 
roll, Lyman, and Rice, and scores of officers, are try- 
ing to rally the men? 

An hour goes by and Leasure, who, it will be re- 
membered, had been sent to Gibbon on the false 
alarm, was directed, no one having approached the 
line of breastworks, to deploy his brigade, his right 
one hundred yards from the road (the Brock), and 
sweep up the front, which he did, encountering but a 
single detached body of the enemy. What does the 
continuing silence mean? Certainly something mys- 
terious has happened. Why do they lose the one 
great chance to complete the victory? 

A few words will explain it all. The Sixty-first Vir- 
ginia of Mahone's brigade — Mahone, a small, sal- 
low, keen-eyed, and fleshless man — had approached 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 277 

within forty or fifty yards of the road, and, through 
the smoke and intervening underbrush, seeing ob- 
jects emerging on it from the bushes on the opposite 
side, mistook them for enemies and let drive a scat- 
tering volley. What they saw was a part of their fel- 
low regiment, the Twelfth Virginia, who with the 
colors had crossed the road in pursuit of Wadsworth's 
men and were returning. The volley intended for 
them cut right through Longstreet, Kershaw, Jen- 
kins, Sorrel, and quite a number of staff and order- 
lies, who just then came riding by, killing instantly 
General Jenkins, Captain Foley, several orderlies, 
and two of the Twelfth's color-guard. But of all the 
bullets in this Wilderness doomsday volley the most 
fated was that which struck Longstreet, passing 
through his right shoulder and throat, and almost 
lifting him from his saddle. As the unfortunate man 
was reeling, about to fall, his friends took him down 
from his horse and propped him against a pine tree. 
Field, who was close by, came to his side, and Long- 
street, although faint, bleeding profusely and blow- 
ing bloody foam from his mouth, told him to go 
straight on; and then despatched Sorrel with this mes- 
sage to Lee: "Urge him to continue the movement he 
[Longstreet] was engaged on; the troops being all 
ready, success would surely follow, and Grant, he 
firmly believed, be driven back across the Rapidan." 
They carried Longstreet — thought at the time by 
all to be mortally wounded — to the rear, and just 



278 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

as they were putting him into an ambulance, Major 
Stiles, from whom I have already quoted, came up; 
and, not being able to get definite information as to 
the character of his wound, only that it was serious, 
— some saying he was dead, — turned and rode with 
one of the staff who in tears accompanied his chief. 

*'I rode up to the ambulance and looked in," says 
the Major. "They had taken off Longstreet's hat and 
coat and boots. I noticed how white and domelike his 
great forehead looked, how spotless white his socks 
and his fine gauze undervest save where the black-red 
gore from his throat and shoulder had stained it. 
While I gazed at his massive frame, lying so still ex- 
cept when it rocked inertly with the lurch of the vehi- 
cle, his eyelids frayed apart till I could see a delicate 
line of blue between them, and then he very quietly 
moved his unwounded arm and, with his thumb and 
two fingers, carefully lifted the saturated undershirt 
from his chest, holding it up a moment, and heaved a 
deep sigh. 'He is not dead,' I said to myself." 

Longstreet was taken to the home of his friend, 
Erasmus Taylor, not far from Orange Court House, 
and, as soon as he could stand the journey, to a hos- 
pital in Lynchburg. Although not fully recovered 
from his wounds, he rejoined the army about the last 
of October, after it had taken what proved to be its 
final stand before Richmond. 

Field, it appears from one of his letters, when Lee 
and Longstreet, on their way to the front, reached 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 279 

him, joined them and rode beside Lee. Coming to 
an obstruction of logs that had been thrown across the 
road by their troops in the early morning, or later by 
ours, Lee stopped, while Field, at his suggestion, gave 
the necessary orders for the removal of the logs so 
that the two guns which were following them could 
pass. Meanwhile Longstreet with his party rode on, 
and within fifty yards met with the fate already 
chronicled. Had the road been clear, Lee would have 
been with them and received the fire of that fateful 
volley. But fortunately, not there, not in the gloom 
of the Wilderness, but at his home in Lexington and 
after his example had done so much to guide the 
Southern people into the paths of resignation and 
peace, was his life to end. 

A moment's reflection upon the situation into which 
the wounding of Longstreet plunged Lee, will, I think, 
leave the impress of its serious gravity. There amid 
the tangle of the Wilderness, just at the hour when ad- 
vantage is to be taken, if at all, of our defeat and utter 
disorder, the directing head on whom he relies for 
handling his exulting men to clinch the victory is 
stricken down under shocking circumstances, almost 
in his immediate presence, and the responsibility of 
leadership is thrown on him in a twinkling. Put your- 
self in his place and do not forget its distracting cir- 
cumstances or the nature of his surroundings, — Hill 
too sick to command his corps, Longstreet bleeding 
terribly and propped up against a small pine tree 



280 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

waiting for an ambulance, bloody foam pouring from 
his mouth when he tries to speak; the road clogged 
with prisoners, squads trying to regain their com- 
mands, dead bodies, limping, wounded, stretcher- 
bearers with their pale-faced and appealing-eyed bur- 
dens, Poague's guns and Jenkins's big brigade trying 
to make their way through them, Field's and Ker- 
shaw's divisions advancing in two or more lines of 
battle, at right angles to the road. Sorrel's flanking 
brigades parallel to it, all in more or less disorder, mov- 
ing by flank to the rear for the time being, prepara- 
tory to the execution of Longstreet's order for a second 
attack on Hancock's left, every step they take bring- 
ing them and the advancing organizations nearer utter 
confusion, and the woods enveloped in heavy, obscur- 
ing smoke! 

Such were the circumstances into which Lee was 
suddenly thrown at that hour of momentous impor- 
tance. It was a chafing trial, one that took him out 
of his sphere of general command and imposed upon 
him the burden of details which ordinarily falls on 
subordinates who, as a rule, from their intimate re- 
lations with officers and troops, can more readily deal 
with them than the commander himself. No doubt 
Longstreet's plans were told to Lee by Sorrel and 
Field, but, whatsoever they were and whomsoever he 
should designate to carry them out, obviously nothing 
could be done till the lines were untangled; and so he 
directed Field to reform them, with a view to carry- . 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 281 

ing the Brock Road, on which his heart was resolutely 
set. 

Field at once began his difficult, troublesome task, 
and, while he is getting his troops ready for the or- 
deal, Lee giving him verbal orders from time to time, 
let us turn to the operations of our cavalry, which, 
for the first time in the history of the Federal army, 
was on the immediate field with the infantry in a well- 
organized and compact body and under an impetu- 
ous leader. 

Sheridan, in his relentlessness, boisterous jollity in 
camp, and in a certain wild, natural intrepidity and 
brilliancy in action, came nearer the old type of the 
Middle Ages than any of the distinguished officers of 
our day. I need not give details as to his appearance, 
for his portrait is very familiar. The dominating fea- 
tures of his square fleshy face with its subdued ruddi- 
ness were prominent, full, black, flashing eyes, which at 
once caught your attention and held it. His forehead 
was well developed, a splendid front for his round, 
cannon-ball head. Custer insisted on introducing me 
to him at City Point after his Trevilian Raid — Sher- 
idan was in his tent, bareheaded, and writing, when 
we entered. He gave me his usual spontaneous, cor- 
dial greeting and searching look, and soon thereafter 
was off for the Valley, where he won great honors, 
breaking the clouds that were hanging so heavily over 
our cause, lifting the North from a state of despon- 
dency and doubt into one of confidence in its final 



282 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

success, and giving Grant a relief from his burden 
which he never forgot. But my impression is that, 
great as Sheridan was, he never could have perma- 
nently maintained pleasant oflBcial relations with his 
fellow commanders on any field : he had to be in chief 
control, tolerating no restraint from equals. Grant 
alone he bowed to, and the reason Grant admired him 
and allowed him free rein was that Sheridan did not 
hesitate to take a bold initiative. 

Sheridan early in the morning of the 6th put the 
cavalry in motion, and Custer's successful fight with 
Rosser of Fitz Lee's division in the forenoon on Han- 
cock's left has already been mentioned. I wish my 
readers could have known Custer, felt the grasp of his 
hand, seen his warm smile, and heard his boyish laugh. 
And then, too, if they could have seen him lead a 
charge ! his men following him rollickingly with their 
long red neckties (they wore them because it was a 
part of his fantastic dress) and as reckless of their lives 
as he himself of his own. Really, it seemed at times as 
if the horses caught his spirit and joined in the charge 
with glee, the band playing and the bugles sounding. 
There never was but one Custer in this world, and at 
West Point how many hours I whiled idly away with 
him which both of us ought to have given to our 
studies. But what were the attractions of Mechanics, 
Optics, or Tactics, Strategy or Ordnance, to those of 
the subjects we talked about: our life in Ohio, its 
coon-hunts, fox-chases, fishing-holes, muskrat and 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 283 

partridge-traps, — in fact, about all that stream of 
persons and little events at home which, when a boy 
is far away from it for the first time, come flowing 
back so dearly. 

It was his like, I have often thought, which in- 
spired that lovable man and soldier, "Dick" Steele, 
to say in the " Spectator," when descanting in his own 
sweet way on the conversation and characters of 
military men, "But the fine gentleman in that band 
of men is such a one as I have now in my eye, who is 
foremost in all danger to which he is ordered. His of- 
ficers are his friends and companions, as they are men 
of honour and gentlemen; the private men are his 
brethren, as they are of his species. He is beloved of 
all that behold him. Go on, brave man, immortal 
glory is thy fortune, and immortal happiness thy 
reward." 

Reader, let me confide ! there are two authors in the 
next world whom I have a real longing to see: one is 
Steele, — poor fellow, so often in his cups, — and the 
other, he who wrote the Gospel of Saint John and saw 
the Tree of Life. 

Well, Custer, after throwing his old West Point 
friends. Young and Rosser, back from the Brock Road 
and Hancock's left, made connection with the ever- 
trusted Gregg, then at Todd's Tavern confronting 
Stuart, who studiously kept his force under cover, 
protected everywhere by hastily constructed de- 
fenses. That Stuart at this time had some plan' 



284 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

in hand is revealed by a despatch to him from Lee's 
chief of staff, dated 10 a. m., to the effect that Lee 
directed him (Marshall) to say that he approved of 
Stuart's designs and wished him success. Probably 
what he had in mind was one of his usual startling 
raids around our flanks; but whatever it was, Gregg 
prevented him from undertaking it by holding him 
fast to his lines, thereby retaining the cross-roads at 
the Tavern and securing the left of the field. 

At one o'clock Humphreys tells Sheridan that 
Hancock's flank had been turned, and that Meade 
thought he had better draw in his cavalry so as to se- 
cure the protection of the trains. Accordingly Sheri- 
dan drew in from Todd's Tavern and the Brock Road. 
Wilson at Piney Branch Church was brought back 
to Chancellorsville, and the enemy by dark pushed 
forward almost to the Furnaces, about halfway be- 
tween Todd's Tavern and Sheridan's headquarters at 
Chancellorsville. Thus by the time Field was ready, 
the Brock Road beyond Hancock's left, covering 
ground at once dangerous to the army if it stood still, 
and absolutely essential if it tried to go ahead, was 
abandoned. In regaining it the next day, which had 
to be done to carry out Grant's onward, offensive 
movement, Sheridan had to do some hard fighting, 
and met with very severe losses, the responsibility 
for which became the occasion of an acrimonious dis- 
pute that broke out between his own friends and the 
friends of Meade as soon as Sheridan's autobiography 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 285 

appeared. Death had overtaken Meade some years 
before the book was pubhshed. Perhaps he was 
misled by Sheridan's despatch as to positions of the 
cavalry, but I have never felt that Meade's friends 
were quite fair to Sheridan in blaming him for falling 
back, since the plain purport of the orders, as I inter- 
pret them, was for him to take no responsibilities that 
would endanger the safety of the trains by being too 
far extended. To be sure, it so happened that the 
trains were secure; Lee's great chance, that hovered 
for a moment like a black thunder-cloud over the 
Army of the Potomac, passed by; and if Sheridan had 
left Gregg at Todd's Tavern, which, as we see now, he 
might have done, the door to Spotsylvania would in 
all probability have been wide open for Warren the 
following night. As it was, Warren found it shut. 

The trains at Chancellorsville as soon as Hancock's 
disaster reached them took time by the forelock and 
started for Ely's Ford. And, in explanation of their 
movement, allow me to say that no one scents danger 
so quickly as quartermasters in charge of trains. 
While the commander is thinking how he can get 
ahead through danger, they are busy thinking how 
they can get back out of danger. For, as a rule, quar- 
termasters hear very little of the good, but all of the 
bad news from the slightly wounded and the skulkers 
who, sooner or later, drift back to the trains, the lat- 
ter invariably telling the same sad, unblushing story, 
that their commands are literally cut to pieces. 



286 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

A real adept skulker or coffee-boiler is a most inter- 
esting specimen; and how well I remember the cool- 
ness with which he and his companion (for they go in 
pairs) would rise from their little fires on being dis- 
covered and ask most innocently, "Lieutenant, can 

you tell me where the regiment is?" And the 

answer, I am sorry to say, was, too often, "Yes, right 
up there at the front, you damned rascal, as you well 
know!" Of course, they would make a show of mov- 
ing, but they were back at their little fire as soon as 
you were out of sight. 

Not only the skulkers but many a good soldier 
whose heart was gone, made his way to the trains at 
Chancellorsville after Hancock's repulse; and the 
quartermasters had good reason to take their usual 
initiative toward safety, northward in this case, to 
Ely's Ford, for there was presageful honesty in the 
face and story of more than one who came back. As a 
matter of fact, they came in shoals. Even the ammu- 
nition-train of the Second Corps, affected by the con- 
tagious panic, had joined the swarm of fugitives. At 
about six o'clock Sheridan, impressed by the state 
of affairs, told Humphreys that unless the trains 
were ordered to cross the river, the road would be 
blocked and it would be impossible for troops to get 
to the ford. What would have happened that after- 
noon among the trains had Longstreet not been 
wounded and had his troops broken through.'^ 

Meanwhile Field, under the immediate eye of Lee, 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 287 

was getting his men ready to renew the contest. 
Knowing the situation and the country as we do, it is 
not surprising that there was delay, or to learn from 
the report of the First South Carolina, one of the regi- 
ments which planted their colors on Hancock's first 
line of works, that there was much wearisome march- 
ing and counter-marching before they all got into 
place for the attack. Kershaw, by Lee's direct orders, 
was, with three of his brigades (Humphreys's, Bryan's, 
and Henagan's), moved to the south, till his right 
rested on the unfinished railway. His other brigade 
(Wofford's) was detached to help Perry stop Burnside, 
who had finally gotten under headway. The only good, 
so far as I can see, that Burnside did that day was to 
detach these two brigades from Lee at a critical time. 

Field put what were left of the Texans, G. S. An- 
derson's and Jenkins's brigade of South Carolinians 
(commanded by Bratton since Jenkins's sudden 
death) , in several lines of battle on the south side of 
the Plank Road, where the main assault was to be 
given; and along with them was R. H. Anderson's 
fresh division of four brigades. 

By this time three or four precious hours had flown 
by; for it was almost four o'clock when the line was re- 
ported ready to move. This delay — I have no doubt 
that on its account Lee did not promote Field to the 
command of his corps in Longstreet's place — but, 
however that may be, the delay must have been 
keenly disappointing and vexing to Lee. For he knew 



288 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

well what advantage Hancock was making of the 
respite, that every minute order was taking the place 
of disorder, confidence of panic, and that breastworks 
were growing higher and more formidable. 

But now these seasoned veterans of Antietam, 
Fredericksburg, Malvern Hill, and Chancellorsville, 
they who broke through Sickles at Gettysburg and 
Rosecrans at Chickamauga, are ready for another 
trial — their last of the kind as it turned out, for, 
with but one or two feeble exceptions Lee never 
tried another such deliberate assault. Had he had 
as many men as Grant, however, I have but little 
doubt that his fighting spirit would have inflamed 
him to repeat and re-repeat Malvern Hill and Pick- 
ett's charge. But this time Pickett was not with 
him — his immortalized division was at Petersburg 
looking after Butler; nor could Alexander bring up 
his artillery, as on the famous day at Gettysburg, 
to shake the lines along the Brock Road. 

At last Field got them arrayed, and brightened 
here and there by blooming dogwoods and closely 
overhung by innumerable throngs of spring-green 
leaves, leaves on slender branches that gently brush 
faces and colors as the soft breezes sigh by, is the 
long line of gray, speckled at short intervals by the 
scarlet of torn banners. Little did those men dream 
as they stood there that Fate only a few hours before 
had for good and all sealed the doom of the Con- 
federacy, that their cause was lost, and that the sac- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 289 

rifices they were about to be called on to make would 
be a waste. 

On my visit to the field last May, I sat a while on a 
knoll not far from where their left lay, — the spot is 
quite open and gloried with more of the stateliness of 
an oak forest than any point in the Wilderness, — and 
as my mind dwelt on those battle lines waiting for the 
command, "Forward," that would blot out this world 
for so many of them, I felt one after another the ten- 
der throbs of those human ties which stretch back to 
the cradle and the hearth. When, on the point of 
yielding to their pathos, at the behest of Imagination, 
if not of Truth itself, the background of my medita- 
tions became a vast, murky-lighted expanse, and from 
a break in its sombre depths a Figure — perchance it 
was Destiny — beckoned me to come and look down 
on the struggle-to-the-death. On gaining the edge 
of the rift three spirits were standing there. The 
Republic, with an anxious look, her eyes fixed on the 
combatants; below at her left was one with a radiant, 
glowing face; and standing apart, with swimming 
averted eyes, was another of sweet gentleness. I 
asked Imagination who these two were. She an- 
swered: "The radiant one is the Future, the other 
with the heavenly countenance is Good- will." And 
while I gazed, the war ended and at once Good-will 
knocked at the doors of conqueror and conquered, 
and at last, under her kindly loving pleading, they 
joined their hands, and lo! she won for civilization, 
democracy and religion their greatest modern triumph. 



XI 



Beside throwing up near the junction two or three 
additional lines, Hancock had slashed a border of the 
woods in their immediate front. His troops were 
posted from right to left as follows, their order show- 
ing the haste with which they were assigned to posi- 
tion. First came Kitching's heavy artillery that the 
Alabama brigade threw back from the slopes of the 
Widow Tapp field as they came forward to help 
Gregg and Benning, its right opposite the knoll here-- 
tofore mentioned; then Eustis's brigade of the Sixth 
Corps; then, in three hues of battle, two brigades 
of Robinson's division of the Fifth; then Owen's 
brigade of the Second; then Wheaton and L. A. Grant 
of the Sixth, their left resting on the Plank Road at 
the junction which the day before they had saved. 
Immediately in rear of them lay Carroll of the Sec- 
ond with his fearless regiments; and behind Carroll, 
in a third line, stood Rice of the Fifth; the remnants 
of his brigade all waiting for the attack that they 
knew was coming. In the road at the junction was a 
section of Dow's Maine battery under Lieutenant 
W. H. Rogers. Then came Birney in three lines of 
battle, then Mott in two lines, and on his left Smyth 
with his gallant Irish, flying with the Stars and 
Stripes the golden Harp of Erin on a green field. 



THE BATTLE OF^ THE WILDERNESS 291 

Webb was next to Smyth, then Barlow. The other 
four guns of Dow's battery were in an opening behind 
the left of Mott's second line, and next to him Edgell's 
six guns of the First New Hampshire. 

At 3.15, all being quiet, kind-hearted Lyman asked 
permission of Hancock to go back to the hospital and 
look after his boyhood friend, "little" Abbott. The 
gallant fellow was then breathing his last, and died 
about four. 

A half-hour later Field's doomed line came on. 
The point which he had chosen to drive it through 
was Mott's and Birney's front, just to the left of the 
junction. It was a lucky choice, for a part of the 
former's division had behaved badly on both days, 
its conduct in marked contrast with that when 
Kearney and Hooker used to lead it. 

Surmising from the skirmish-line reports that the 
main assault would be south of the Plank Road, a 
bugler was stationed on Mott's breastworks, with 
orders to sound the recall for the skirmishers at the 
enemy's first appearance. Soon his notes rang out, 
and Dow's and Edgell's guns opened at once with 
spherical case. But on they came, marching abreast 
to within one hundred paces of the Brock Road. 
There, confronted by the slashing, they halted, and 
for a half-hour poured an uninterrupted fire of mus- 
ketry across the works, our lines replying with deadly 
effect. The incessant roar of these crashing volleys, 
and the thunder of the guns as they played rapidly, 



292 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

struck war's last full diapason on the Plank Road in 
the Wilderness. 

Meantime fire, that had crept through the woods 
from the battle-ground of the forenoon, had reached 
the bottom logs of the breastworks in some places 
and was smoking faintly, waiting for a breath of 
wind to mount and wrap them in flames. And now, 
while the battle was raging to its culmination, on 
came a fanning breeze, and up leaped the flames. The 
breastworks along Mott's and Birney's front soon 
became a blazing mass. The heat grew almost intol- 
erable, and the wind rising — what desolated South- 
ern home had it passed ! — now lashed the flames 
and hot blinding smoke down into the faces of the 
men, driving them, here and there, from the para- 
pets. 

Soon one of Mott's brigades began to waver and 
then broke, retiring in disorder toward Chancellors- 
ville. At its abandonment of the works. South Caro- 
linian and Texan color-bearers rushed from the 
woods, followed by the men, and planted their flags 
on the burning parapets, and through the flame over 
went the desperate troops. At this perilous sight 
Rogers at the junction began to pour double canister 
into them, and Dow and Edgell crossed his fire with 
case and like charges of canister. The former must 
have had his eye on a particular battle-flag, for he 
speaks in his report of shooting one down five times. 
Meanwhile his own breastworks get on fire, and the 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 293 

extra charges that the gunners have brought up from 
the limbers explode, burning some of the cannoneers 
severely. Still he keeps on, his guns belching canis- 
ter. 

As soon as the break was made through Mott and 
his own left, Birney in great haste rode to Robinson, 
his next division commander on his right, telling him 
what had happened, that Hancock was cut off, and 
suggesting that proper disposition be made to receive 
an attack on Robinson's left and rear. Lyman, who 
when the assault began had gone to notify Meade, 
was met on his return by one of Hancock's aides, who 
told him that the enemy had broken through, and 
that there was no communication with the left wing. 
He rode on, however, and found Birney at the 
junction, who confirmed the aide's story. It is said 
that when Birney's aide came to Grant and reported 
that the enemy had broken the lines, he and Meade 
were sitting together at the root of a tree, and Grant, 
after hearing the story, did not stir, but looking up 
said in his usual low, softly vibrating voice, *'I don't 
believe it." 

Meanwhile Birney had called on Rice, and Han- 
cock on Carroll; the batteries ceased firing, and to- 
gether those two fearless commanders with their 
iron-hearted brigades dashed with bayonets fixed at 
the enemy and soon hurled them from the works, 
leaving colors, prisoners, and over fifty dead and 
many wounded within the burning entrenchments. 



294 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

To the south in front of our lines for four or five hun- 
dred yards from the junction, clear to where Webb 
was posted, Confederate dead and helpless wounded 
dotted the ground. They had charged with great 
valor. 

I have always thought that if Grant had been with 
Hancock at the time of this repulse, he would have 
ordered an immediate advance. For the Army of the 
Potomac never had another commander who was so 
tjuick as Grant to deliver a counter-blow. 

Field's losses were heavy, he had signally failed to 
carry the works, and soon drew his shattered lines 
back almost to the Widow Tapp field, and at about 
sundown reformed them perpendicular to the Plank 
Road, their left resting on it, and bivouacked about 
where Gregg first struck W^adsworth. 

That night the Texans who had suffered so severely 
collected the dead they could find, dug a trench near 
the road, and buried them. And when the last shovel- 
ful of reddish clay and dead leaves was thrown, they 
tacked a board onto an oak whose branches overhung 
the shallow trench, bearing the inscription, "Texas 
dead. May 6th, 1864." Field said in a letter to his 
friend. Gen. E. P. Alexander, that a single first lieu- 
tenant was all that was left of one of the companies. 

W. R. Ramsey, of Morton, Pa., who was in Wads- 
worth's front when the Texans charged, and was 
wounded so he could not move, says that some South 
Carolina men brought blankets and covered him that 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 295 

night besides making and bringing coffee to him, and 
that one of their Httle drummer boys staid with him 
till his leg was amputated. Who can doubt that the 
Good Samaritan reached a hand when the little 
drummer boy entered Heaven's gates! 

As this is the end of the fighting of these Confed- 
erate troops in the Wilderness, here is how General 
Perry, who commanded one of the brigades, closes his 
reminiscences of the battle: "Many a day of toil and 
night of watching, many a weary march and tempest 
of fire, still await these grim and ragged veterans; but 
they have taught the world a lesson that will not soon 
be forgotten, and have lighted up the gloom of that 
dark forest with a radiance that will abide so long as 
heroism awakens a glow of admiration in the hearts 
of men." True, well and beautifully said. 

And now for the narration of some personal expe- 
riences, not because they were of any great conse- 
quence in themselves, but one of them at least, as it 
so happened, had a part in the history of the day. 
During the forenoon — from official dates of various 
orders I know it must have been not later than ten; 
at any rate it was after my return from trying to find 
Wadsworth — Warren, who was standing in the door- 
yard of the Lacy house, saw a guard that had charge 
of a small squad of Confederates just in from the 
front halt them near the bank of the run. He told me 
to go down and find out who they were. Noticing a 
young officer among them, I asked him what regiment 



296 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

he belonged to. He and his companions were tired 
and not in good spirits over their hard luck, with its 
long period of confinement before them, for Grant had 
suspended the exchange of prisoners; and he answered 
me with sullen defiance in look and tones, "Fifteenth 
Alabama ! " which, if I remember right, was in Law's 
brigade of Longstreet's corps. Not being very skillful 
at worming valuable intelligence out of prisoners, I 
was getting very little from them, when a mounted 
orderly came to me from my immediate commander, 
the Chief of Ordnance, Captain Edie, to report at 
Meade's headquarters. On reaching there, Edie told 
me I was to start at once for Rappahannock Station 
with despatches to Washington for an additional sup- 
ply of infantry ammunition to be sent out with all 
haste. The wagons going to meet the train for the 
ammunition and other supplies were to be loaded 
with wounded, who would be transferred to the cars, 
and thence to the hospitals in Alexandria and Wash- 
ington. 

How the notion got abroad that the supply of am- 
munition was exhausted I cannot explain, except by 
the heavy firing. As a matter of fact, we had an abun- 
dance; but, somehow or other, Humphreys or Meade 
was made to think we were running short, and, as 
early as seven o'clock, a circular was issued to all 
corps commanders : — 

The question of ammunition is an important one. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 297 

The Major-General commanding directs that every 
effort be made to economize the ammunition, and the 
ammunition of the killed and wounded be collected 
and distributed to the men. Use the bayonet where 
possible. 

By command of Major-Gen'I Meade. 

S. Williams, 
Adjutant-General. 

Humphreys in a despatch to Warren said, "Spare 
ammunition and use the bayonet." 

At nine o'clock, corps commanders were told to 
empty one-half of the ammunition-wagons and issue 
their contents to the troops without delay, sending 
the empty wagons to report to Ingalls at Meade's 
headquarters. 

I asked Edie what escort I was to have. He an- 
swered, "A sergeant and four or five men." I ex- 
claimed, "A sergeant and four or five men! What 
would I amount to with that sort of escort against 
Mosby.?" 

For those who have been born since the war, let me 
say that Mosby was a very daring oflScer operating 
between the Rapidan and Potomac, his haunt the 
eastern base of the Blue Ridge. I think every staff of- 
ficer stood in dread of encountering him anywhere 
outside the lines, — at least I know I did, — from 
reports of atrocities, perhaps more or less exaggerated, 
committed by his men. I must have worn a most 



298 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

indignant expression, possibly due to just having es- 
caped capture, for Edie roared with laughter. But I 
declared that it was no laughing matter, that I had to 
have more men than that, and I got them, for they 
sent a squadron of the Fifth New York Cavalry, in 
command of Lieutenant W. B. Gary, now the Rever- 
end Mr. Cary of Windsor, Connecticut, and may this 
day and every day on to the end be a pleasant one 
for him ! And besides, they supplied me with a fresh 
horse, a spirited young black with a narrow white 
stripe on his nose. 

When I was ready to start, I heard General Grant 
ask some one near him, "Where is the officer that is 
going back with despatches.?" Those that I had re- 
ceived were from Meade's Adjutant-General. I was 
taken up to him by some one of his staff, possibly 
Porter or Babcock. Grant at once sat down with his 
back against a small pine tree, and wrote a despatch 
directed to Halleck. 

While he was writing, E. B. Washburne, a promi- 
nent member of Congress, who, as a fellow townsman 
of Grant's, having opened the door for his career, had 
come down to see him start the great campaign (on 
account of his long-tailed black coat and silk hat the 
men said that he was an undertaker that Grant had 
brought along to bury "Jeff" Davis), gave me a let- 
ter with a Congressman's frank, to be mailed to his 
family. A number of the staff gave me letters also. A 
telegraph operator was directed to go with me, and 



,THE BATTLE OF TEE WILDERNESS 299 

my final instructions were that, if I found communi- 
cation broken at Rappahannock, I was to go to Ma- 
nassas, or the nearest station where the operator 
could find an open circuit. 

I set out with my despatches, several correspon- 
dents joining me, and I remember that I was not half 
as polite to them as I should have been; but in those 
days a regular army officer who courted a newspaper 
man lost caste with his fellows. Soon after crossing 
the Rapidan we met a battalion of a New Jersey 
cavalry regiment that had been scouting up the river. 
It was a newly organized regiment, one of Burnside's, 
and on account of its gaudy uniforms was called by 
all the old cavalrymen ''Butterflies," and most un- 
mercifully jibed by them. But the "Butterfly" soon 
rose to the occasion, and paid the old veterans in coin 
as good as their own. As we were riding by them, one 
of our men inquired if they had seen anything of 
Mosby, and, on being answered in the negative, ob- 
served sarcastically in the hearing of the "Butterfly," 
"It's mighty lucky for Mosby," and rode on with the 
grin of a Cheshire cat. 

We followed the road to Sheppard's Grove and then 
across country to Stone's or Paoli Mills on Mountain 
Run. From there we made our way to Providence 
Church on the Norman's Ford Road, passing over a 
part of the field where the lamented Pelham was killed. 
The old church, with some of its windows broken, 
stood on a ridge; desolated fields lay around it. When 



300 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

we reached it the sun had set, and I remember how 
red was its outspread fan in the low western sky. 
Rappahannock Station was in sight, and over the 
works which occupied the knolls on the north side 
of the river, which the Sixth Corps had carried one 
night by assault after twilight had fallen, the preced- 
ing autumn, to my surprise a flag was flying. I had 
supposed that the post had been abandoned, but 
for some reason or other Burnside had left a regiment 
there. Our approach being observed, the pickets were 
doubled, for they took us for some of the enemy's 
cavalry. 

I went at once, after seeing the officer in command, 
to the little one-story rough-boarded house that had 
served as the railroad station; and, while the operator 
was attaching his instrument, which he carried 
strapped to his saddle, I opened Grant's despatch and 
read it. In view of its being his first from the Wilder- 
ness, I will give it entire: — 

Wilderness Tavebn, 
May 6, 1864 — 11.30 a. m. 

Major-General Halleck, 
Washington, D. C. 
We have been engaged with the enemy in full force 
since early yesterday. So far there is no decisive 
result, but I think all things are progressing favor- 
ably. Our loss to this time I do not think exceeds 
8000, of whom a large proportion are slightly 
wounded. Brigadier-General Hays was killed yes- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 301 

terday, and Generals Getty and Bartlett wounded. 
We have taken about 1400 prisoners. Longstreet's, 
A. P. Hill's, and Ewell's corps are all represented 
among the prisoners taken. 

U. S. Grant, 
Lieutenant-General. 

Meanwhile the operator's instrument had clicked 
and clicked, but could get no answer, and he decided 
we should have to go on possibly as far as Fairfax 
Station. Thereupon I talked with the commander of 
the escort, who thought the march should not be 
resumed till the horses had fed and had a good rest, 
as it was at least thirty miles to Fairfax Station. We 
agreed to start not later than half-past ten. 

The colonel gave us some supper and wanted to 
know all about the battle; but I was very tired, and in 
those days with strangers very reserved, so I am 
afraid I disappointed him, and soon went to sleep. 
My reticence is reflected in the following despatch 
from C. A. Dana, Assistant Secretary of War, whom 
Lincoln had asked to go to Grant and tell how the 
day was going; for that merciful man could not stand 
the strain of uncertainty any longer. Dana arrived 
at seven o'clock the following morning, and reported : 
*'An oflScer from General Meade was here at 2 
o'clock this morning seeking to telegraph to Wash- 
ington, but was recalled by a second messenger. They 
report heavy fighting, etc. . . . The battle is be- 



302 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

lieved here to have been indecisive, but as the officer 
said but little, I can gather nothing precise." 

Well, why should I have particularized or boasted? 
The fact is I had seen nothing like a victory. Nat- 
urally prone to take a dark view, and equally anxious 
to avoid conveying half-developed information, I 
do not believe that the colonel could have pumped 
with any chance of success in getting either favorable 
news or full details. 

Saddling had begun when I was waked up by the 
officer of the guard, who said that a civilian had just 
been brought in from the picket-line, claiming to be 
a scout from Grant's headquarters with orders from 
him to me. I did not recognize the man, though I may 
have seen him about the provost-marshal's head- 
quarters. He handed me a small envelope containing 
the following order: — 

Headquabtebs, Army of the Potomac, 
May 6, 1864 — 2 p. m. 

Lieut. Morris Schafp, 

Ordnance Officer. 
The commanding general directs that you return 
with your party and despatches to these headquar- 
ters, the orders directing the procuring of an addi- 
tional supply of ammunition having been recalled. 
I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant, 

S. Williams, 
Assistant Adjutant-General. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 303 

The original in the same Httle envelope is lying 
before me now; it is beginning to wear an old look and 
is turning yellow. You, envelope, and your associa- 
tions are dear to me, and as my eye falls on you, old 
days come back and I see the Army of the Potomac 
again. In a little while we shall part; and I wonder if 
in years to come you will dream of that night when 
we first met on the Rappahannock, hear the low in- 
termittent swish of the water among the willows on 
the fringed banks as then, and go back under the dim 
starlight to the Wilderness, with a light-haired boy 
mounted on a young black horse that had a little 
white snip on its nose. 

As there was no occasion for hurry, and the scout 
and his horse both called for rest, I waited till two 
o'clock and then set ofiF on our return, the scout 
taking the lead. There was a haze in the sky, and in 
the woods it was very dark. We had been on our way 
some time, and I had paid no attention to the direc- 
tion we were going, when, for some reason or other, 
I asked the scout if he were sure of being on the right 
road. He answered that he was, and we rode on. But 
shortly after, I heard the roaring of water falhng over 
a dam away off to our right, and asked, "Where is 
that dam?" He said on the Rappahannock. "If that's 
the case," I replied, "we are heading the wrong way; 
it should be on our left." 

Well, he reckoned he knew the road to Germanna 
Ford ; but I was not satisfied, and, after going a bit 



304 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

farther, told the Heutenant to countermarch. At this 
the scout was very much provoked, declaring we 
should soon be completely lost in the woods. He 
went his course and I went mine, and within a mile 
I struck a narrow lane which led to a house with a 
little log barn or shed just opposite, and in a flash I 
knew where we were. 

It was really a great relief, as any one will appre- 
ciate who has tried to find his way in a dark night 
across an unfamiliar country. 

The water we heard that still night was Mountain 
Run flowing over the dam and lashing among the 
boulders below it at Paoli Mills. On my visit to the 
Wilderness last May I went to the dam, and then to 
the old, weather-beaten, forsaken mill that stands 
alone some two hundred yards off in a field. Its 
discontinued race was empty and grass-grown, and 
some of the members of a small, scattered flock of 
sheep ready for shearing were feeding along its brushy 
banks. By the roadside, below the boulders, is a 
shadowed, gravelly-edged, shallow pool, and as I ap- 
proached it a little sandpiper flitted away. 

Daylight had just broken when we reached Mad- 
den's, and, as we were passing a low, hewed log-house, 
a powerful, lank, bony-faced woman appeared at the 
door combing a hank of coarse gray hair. 

I said, "Good-morning, madam, how far is it to 
Germanna Ford?" 

She replied surlily to my question, and then with a 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 805 

hard smile added, "I reckon you 'uns got a right 
smart good whipping last night." 

"What do you mean?" I asked. 

"Well, you'll find out when you get back." And 
she gave me a spurning look as she turned in the 
doorway that as much as said, "You caught h — 1 
and deserved it." 

The other day when I traveled the road I made 
some inquiries about the old lady and found that 
her name was Eliza Allen, and that she had long 
since died ; a catbird was singing in the neglected 
garden. 

Reader, to fully comprehend what Eliza denomi- 
nated as a "right smart good whipping" necessitates 
my going to the right of the army during the late 
afternoon and evening of the first day. And as the 
narrative is drawing towards its close I 'd like to have 
you go with me. For I want to take a walk with you 
before we part, for we have been good friends, and I 
want you to see moreover the Wilderness as it is. We 
will follow up the Flat Run Road from where it joins 
the Germanna, and thence to where Sedgwick's right 
lay. Before we set out let me tell you that the dark- 
ish, weather-worn roof and stubby red chimney com- 
ing up through the middle of it, that you see a half- 
mile or more away across the deserted fields, are 
those of the old Spottswood manor-house. Its lower 
story is concealed by that intervening heave in the 
ground; its mistress, Lady Spottswood, is buried on 



306 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

the plantation known as "Superba," near Stevens - 
burg. 

In a few steps this fenceless road, a mere two- 
wheeled track winding among the trees, will quit the 
fields and lead us into deep and lonely woods. I 
passed over it twice last May, azaleas and dogwoods 
were blooming then as now, and I think I can point 
out the identical giant huckleberry — it is on the left 
of the road — whose white pendulous flowers first 
caught my eye with their suggestion of bells tolling 
for the dead. And I venture to say that no finer or 
larger violets are to be seen anywhere in the world, 
or more pleasing little houstonias, than you see now. 
Later on I can promise you the sight of cowslips gild- 
ing patches of shallow, stagnant water; for as we draw 
nearer to where Sedgwick's line was first established 
(the maps show it) we shall come to the swampy 
heads of Caton's Run and the upper waters of the 
tributaries of Flat Run. The road is between them, 
the former on our left, the latter on the right. Hark 
a minute ! that must be the same herd of cattle I met 
with last year: I came on them at this sudden turn 
and up went every head wildly. Yes, the same lonely 
Ming, klung. I recognize the bells. We shall not see 
them ; they are feeding off toward the Pike and War- 
ren's lines. 

• "I thought you said it was not very far, but we have 
walked at least a mile. How much farther.?" Only a 
short way; a new road is always long. "What is this 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 307 

low, continuous mound that we see on both sides of 
the road?" halting suddenly, you ask. That is all 
that is left of Sedgwick's entrenchments. Let us fol- 
low it to the right, if for nothing else on account of its 
soliciting lonesomeness. I am sure it will enjoy our 
presence, for think of the days and nights it has lain 
here dreaming. " Do you imagine the spirits of those 
boys ever come back, who fell here ? " Oh, yes, over 
and over again in line with flags flying and the roses 
of youth in their cheeks. Think of the fires, though, 
that swept through the woods that night! " I wonder 
if spectral ones break out with the reappearance of 
the dead?" No, and if they should, the trees would 
shiver down the fallen dew and quench them; for 
timber dreads to hear the snapping march of fire. 

"Shall we go on?" Yes, a bit farther; the walk- 
ing is not easy, I know, for the limbs are low and the 
trees are thick. Moreover it is growing rougher and 
swampier; more and more, too, the green vines impede 
our way. Test their strength if you care to do so. But 
here at last is the right of the line near the head of 
a branch. If we were to follow it till it meets the run, 
and then a bit farther northward, we should come 
in sight of some old fields; but we will not penetrate 
deeper; let us pause and rest a moment for we are 
in one of the depths of the Wilderness. Notice the 
rapt, brooding, sullen stillness of the woods, the moss 
in tufts tagging those forlorn, blotched young pines, 
those dark shallow pools with their dead-leaf bot- 



808 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

toms, that leaning stub with only one limb left, those 
motionless fallen trees, and those short vistas scruti- 
nizing us with their melancholy gray eyes. Were you 
ever in a quieter spot or one where you felt the living 
presence of a vaster, more wizard loneliness? "Never, 
never." Your voice even sounds strange; and, excuse 
me, if I remark a glint of wildness in your eyes, — 
that atavistic glint which comes only in places like 
this. 

Well, on the afternoon of the first day, about here 
the right of Keifer's brigade formed — it ought to be 
known in history as Keifer's, for Seymour had just 
been assigned to it. It consisted of the Sixth Mary- 
land, One Hundred and Tenth, One Hundred and 
Twenty-second, One Hundred and Twenty-sixth 
Ohio, Sixty-seventh and One Hundred and Thirty- 
eighth Pennsylvania; and Ohio, Maryland, and Penn- 
sylvania may well be proud of their record on this 
ground. On their left were those sterling brigades of 
Russell and Neill of the Sixth Corps, only a few of the 
men visible, the bulk completely buried by the thick 
undergrowth. Let us imagine that this is the day of 
battle, that the sun is on the point of setting, and 
that orders have come to go ahead. 

If you care to go forward with them I'll go with 
you. "Go! why, yes, yes, let us go by all means!" 
For the sake of my old state, let us join the One 
Hundred and Tenth Ohio under Colonel Binkley. 
The first line under Keif er is made up of that regiment 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 309 

and the Sixth Maryland, the latter on the left, con- 
necting with the Fourth New Jersey. Behind us in 
a second line are the One Hundred and Twenty- 
second Ohio, then the One Hundred and Thirty- 
eighth Pennsylvania, and then the One Hundred and 
Twenty-sixth Ohio. Colonel John W. Horn, com- 
manding the Sixth Maryland, is sending out skir- 
mishers to cover his front; they are under Captain 
Prentiss, a very gallant man. (In the final charges 
on the forts of the Petersburg lines Prentiss led a 
storming party, and, as he crossed the parapet, had 
his breastbone carried away by a piece of shell, ex- 
posing his heart's actions to view. The Confederate 
commanding the battery which had just been over- 
powered fell also, and the two officers lying there 
side by side recognized each other as brothers. They 
were from Baltimore.) Captain Luther Brown of the 
One Hundred and Tenth Ohio is in charge of the 
skirmishers in his regiment's front. Now the order 
comes for the first line to move forward. The colors 
advance; let us go with them. That firm, earnest- 
eyed man commanding the regiment is Binkley; and 
there is McElwain, one of the bravest of the brave. 
The fire is terrific, men are falling, but colors and men 
are going ahead. Did you see the look in that ser- 
geant's face as he fell ? And now comes a horrid 
thud as a shot strikes a corporal full in the breast. 
(Pushing aside the low, stubborn limbs and scram- 
bling over these wretched vines, on goes the line. 



310 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

There is no silence in the dismal Wilderness now. 
Smoke is billowing up through it, the volleys are 
frequent and resounding; bullets in sheets are clip- 
ping leaves and limbs, and scoring or burying them- 
selves deep in the trunks of the trees. On go the sons 
of Ohio and Maryland.) I wonder how much longer 
they can stand it. Look, look how the men are going 
down! But don't let us cast our eyes behind us; as 
long as those brave fellows go ahead, let us go with 
them. 

The lines are slowing up under that frightful, with- 
ering fire. Now they stand, they can go no farther, 
for just ahead (behind logs hurriedly assembled) on 
that rising ground are the enemy, and they mean to 
hold it. Moreover, it has grown so dark that their 
position is made known only by the deep red, angrily 
flashing light from the leveled muzzles of their guns. 
Although Keifer has reported that unless reinforced 
he doubts being able to carry the position, yet back 
comes the command to attack at once. The line 
obeys, but is checked by a terrible fire. Some brave 
fellow cries out, "Once more"; they try it again, but 
the fire is too heavy. ^ Here for nearly three hours they 

^ Captain W. W. Old of General Edward Johnson's division (Southern 
Historical papers) says that the fighting was so intense that night that 
General Johnson sent him to get two regiments to take the place of as 
many men in Pegram's brigade whose guns were so hot that they could 
not handle them. He arranged to slide the fresh regiments along the 
breastworks, but was told that there was no room for more men, that 
all they wanted was loaded guns, and details were made to load and carry 
them in. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 311 

stand that scourging fire, bullets at highest speed, 
for it is very close range, converging across their 
flank from right and left. Keifer, although seriously 
wounded, is staying with them. Who is this riding 
up in the darkness to Keifer, saying sharply, "Sup- 
port must be sent, for the enemy are flanking us"? 
It is the daring McEl wain; down goes his horse. (That 
is the last of the gallant fellow; he and many others 
are burned beyond recognition.) 

At last the men are falling back; but let us take 
this little fellow with us and help him along. We lift 
him, he puts his arms around our necks, and, collid- 
ing with trees, limbs raking our faces, we stagger 
along over the uneven ground in the dark. Now we 
stumble headlong over a body, and, as we fall, our 
friend moans piteously, and so does the unfortunate 
man our feet have struck, who says faintly, "I belong 
to Stafford's brigade [Confederate]; will you get me 
some water?" I hear you say right heartily, for I 
know you are gallant men, "Yes, indeed, we will. 
You, Captain, take the little corporal along and bring 
a canteen and I'll stay here till you come back." On 
my return, "Where are you?" I cry. "Here we are; 
come quickly, for the fire in the woods is making this 
way fast." And the soldier in gray is borne to the 
rear. 

Let us close our eyes to the scene and our ears to 
the cries, and leave this volley-crashing and heart- 
rending pandemonium. The Sixth Maryland has lost, 



S12 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

out of 442, 152 officers and men; and the One Hundred 
and Tenth Ohio, 115 killed and wounded. 

Grant, through misinformation, reported to Halleck 
two days later that Keifer's brigade had not behaved 
well, and for years and years they have had to stand 
this bitter injustice. It is true that the next night this 
brigade, as well as Shaler's, which was sent to its 
right, was swept away by Gordon in the discomfiture 
referred to by Mrs. Allen; but let us look into the 
facts. 

The impetuous attacks of Russell's, Neill's, and 
Keifer's brigades on that first night were met by those 
of Hays, Pegram, and Stafford, during which, as al- 
ready told, Pegram was severely and Stafford mor- 
tally wounded. The losses on both sides were heavy, 
and toward the close of the action Gordon was sent 
for by Ewell to go to the support of his stagger- 
ing troops. Owing to the darkness and the nature of 
the wood, it was well along in the night, and the 
fighting was over, before his brigade reached a posi- 
tion on the extreme left of Ewell's line, which at 
this point swung back a little northwestwardly. Gor- 
don directed his men to sleep on their arms, and at 
once sent out scouts to feel their way and find the 
right, if possible, of Keifer's position. At an early 
hour these scouts reported that his lines overlapped 
it and that it was wholly unprotected. 

This news was of such importance that he sent the 
scouts back to verify it. Satisfied on their return that 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 313 

they had not been deceived, and keenly appreciat- 
ing what his adversary's unprotected flank invited, 
he waited impatiently for daybreak. As soon as it 
broke, he mounted his horse and was guided by his 
explorers of the night before to a spot from whence, 
creeping forward cautiously some distance, he saw 
with his own eyes our exposed flank. The men, un- 
conscious of danger, were seated around little camp- 
fires boiling their coffee. Colonel Ball of the One 
Hundred and Twenty-second Ohio says that Gen- 
eral Seymour, then in command of the brigade, was 
repeatedly notified during the night that the enemy 
were engaged cutting timber for their works and 
moving to our right. For some reason or other Gen- 
eral Seymour did not give heed to this significant 
information and throw up a line for the safety of his 
right. Gordon rode at once, burning with his discov- 
ery, to his division commander, Jubal A. Early, a 
sour, crabbed character, who, unlike Gordon and the 
big-hearted and broad-minded Confederates, bore a 
gloomy heart, a self -exile cursing his country to the 
last. What is bleaker than an old age a slave to Hate ! 
Our higher natures have each its dwelling place — 
and how often they invite us up, and how rarely we 
accept! But I cannot believe that they extended 
many invitations to Jubal A. Early — who, after the 
war was all over and Peace healing the wounds, still 
kept on with increasing bitterness — to join them 
around their hearths. No, there as here, the Spirit 



314 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

loves the man and soldier who takes his defeats and 
disappointments with a gentleman's manliness. 

Gordon laid the situation before Early, expecting 
him to jump at the chance to strike a blow such as 
that which made Stonewall famous. But, to Gor- 
don's amazement. Early refused to entertain his sug- 
gestion of a flank attack, alleging as a reason that 
Burnside was on the Germanna Road directly behind 
Sedgwick's right, and could be thrown at once on the 
flank of any attacking force that should try to strike 
it. If this interview took place between daylight and 
seven o'clock. Early was right as to the presence of a 
part, at least, of Burnside's troops on the Germanna 
Road, for, as we have already seen, the head of his 
rear division, the first, did not reach the Pike till 
about seven o'clock. 

Early declining to make the attack, Gordon went 
to Ewell and urged it upon him; but he hesitated to 
overrule Early's decision, and so Gordon had to go 
back to his brigade, cast down and doubtless dis- 
gusted through and through with the lack of enter- 
prise on the part of his superiors and seniors. He was 
only thirty-two or three, while Ewell and Early were 
approaching fifty years of age. By the time Gordon 
had returned from his fruitless mission, Shaler's bri- 
gade had been sent to Seymour's right. Thus Ewell's 
lines lay quiescent throughout the livelong day be- 
hind their entrenchments, while Longstreet and Field 
desperately battled to the southeast of them. To his 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 315 

failure to grasp the golden opportunity Ewell owes 
his fixed place in the rank of second-rate military 
men; but he is not alone; it is a big class. The truth is 
that next to hen's teeth real military genius is about 
the rarest thing in the world. 

Stung by disappointment over his failure to carry 
the Brock Road, Lee set off for Ewell's headquarters, 
the declining sun admonishing him that only a few 
hours remained in which to reap his expectations of 
the morning. The course he takes, if one cares to fol- 
low him, is, for a mile or more, through a wandering 
leaf -strewn, overarched wood-road to the Chewning 
farm, his general direction almost due northwest. 
At Chewning's he passes Pegram's and Mcintosh's 
batteries; they salute, — the Confederates cheered 
rarely, — he lifts his hat, carries his gauntleted left 
hand a little to the right, presses his high-topped boot 
against Traveller's right side, and the well-trained 
gray, feeling rein and leg, changes to almost due 
north, and with his strong, proudly-daring gallop 
brings his master to the Pike. 

When Lee reined up at Ewell's headquarters, he 
asked sharply, — I think I can see the blaze in his 
potent dark brown eye, — "Cannot something be 
done on this flank to relieve the pressure upon our 
right?" It so happened that both Early and Gordon 
were with Ewell when this guardedly reproving ques- 
tion was put. After listening as a young man and sub- 
ordinate should to the conference of his superiors. 



316 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Gordon felt it his duty to acquaint Lee with what the 
reader already knows. Early, with his usual obsti- 
nacy, vigorously opposed the movement, maintaining 
that Burnside was still there; Lee, having just thrown 
Burnside back from the Plank Road, heard him 
through, and thereupon promptly ordered Gordon to 
make the attack at once. By this time the sun was 
nearly set. 



XII 

GoKDON set off, moving by the left flank, with his 
own and Robert D. Johnston's North Carohna bri- 
gade (the one that claims it made the march of sixty 
odd miles in twenty-three hours!), and, after making 
a detour through the woods, brought his men up as 
rapidly and noiselessly as possible on Shaler's flank. 
Pausing till Johnston should gain the rear of Shaler's 
brigade, and then, when all was ready, with a single 
volley, and the usual wild, screaming yells, he rushed 
right on to the surprised and bewildered lines, which 
broke convulsively, only to meet Johnston. Sey- 
mour's right was struck, panic set in, and the men 
fled down the lines to the left, and hundreds, if not 
thousands, back to the Flat Run and Germanna 
roads. When those following the breastworks reached 
Neill's steadfast brigade. Colonel Smith of the Sixty- 
first Pennsylvania gave the command, "By the right 
flank, file right, double-quick, march ! " This brought 
him right across the retreating masses, and he told 
his men to stop the stampede as best they could; but 
the disorganized men swept through them in the 
gathering darkness, the Confederates on their heels. 
But, meanwhile, Morris and Upton had come to 
Smith's aid, and between them they stopped Gor- 
don; not, however, without losing a number of men 



318 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

and prisoners, among whom was F. L. Blair of Pitts- 
burgh, a member of the Sixty-first Pennsylvania, to 
whom I am indebted for a vivid account of what 
happened. Shaler and Seymour, trying to rally their 
men, were both taken prisoners. 

As soon as the break occurred, Sedgwick threw 
himself among his veterans, crying, "Stand! stand, 
men! Remember you belong to the Sixth Corps!" 
On hearing his voice in the darkness, they rallied. 
Meanwhile the panic was at its height, and several 
of his staff flew to Meade's headquarters, — Meade 
at that time was over at Grant's, — telling Hum- 
phreys that the right was turned, the Sixth Corps had 
been smashed to pieces, and that the enemy were 
coming up the road. Humphreys, with that prompt- 
ness and cool-headedness which never deserted him, 
let the situation be as appalling as it might, at once 
made dispositions to meet this unexpected onslaught, 
calling on Hunt, the provost guard, and Warren, all 
of whom responded briskly. Lyman says in his notes, 
"About 7.30 p. M. ordered to take over a statement of 
the case to General Grant in the hollow hard by. He 
seemed more disturbed than Meade about it, and they 
afterwards consulted together. In truth, they [the 
enemy] had no idea of their success." Meade then 
returned to his headquarters. Grant going with him. 

On hearing some of the panicky reports from Sedg- 
wick's aides, Meade turned to one of them and asked 
fiercely, "Do you mean to tell me that the Sixth 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 319 

Corps is to do no more fighting this campaign?" "I 

am fearful not, sir," quoth . I think I can see and 

hear Meade, and I cannot help smiling, for it reminds 
me of a little interview I had with him myself a few 
days later, the first morning at Spotsylvania. I hap- 
pened to be in the yard of the Hart house, gazing 
across the valley of the sleepy Po at a long Confeder- 
ate wagon-train hastening southward amid a cloud of 
dust, when he rode up. I ventured to say to him that 
a battery would easily reach that train. He gave me a 
deploring look and then said, "Yes! and what good 
would you do? scare a few niggers and old mules!" 
That was the only suggestion I made to him for the 
management of his campaign. 

Well, Sedgwick, having thrown himself into the 
breach, rallied his men, and the danger was soon over; 
for Gordon's troops were in utter confusion, engulfed 
by the Wilderness, as ours had been in every one of 
their attacks; and he was mighty glad, and so were 
his men, to get back to their lines. 

Gordon's attack, briUiant as it was, and thoroughly 
in keeping with his exploits on so many fields, fields 
whose sod I am sure cherishes his memory fondly, has 
never seemed to me to have had the importance that 
he, in his frank, trumpet-breathing reminiscences, 
attached to it. He contends that, if he had been al- 
lowed to make the attack earlier in the day, it would 
inevitably have brought complete victory. But how 
easy for him, how natural for us all, to be deceived by 



320 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

retrospection ! For chance sows her seed of possibil- 
ity in the upturned earth of every critical hour of our 
lives; the mist of years quickens it, and in due time 
the clambering, blossoming vines are over the face of 
Failure, hiding its stony, inexorable stare. The past 
-of every one, of armies and empires, as history tells us 
well, is dotted with patches of this blooming posy; 
and I can readily see how Gordon's reverie-dreaming 
eye, floating over the sad fate of the Confederacy 
which he loved so well, should fall on that day in the 
Wilderness; and how at once possibility reversed the 
failure beneath the lace-work of this apparently so 
real, so comforting and illusive bloom. 

Yet, as a matter of fact, there was only one hour on 
the sixth, as I view it, when his attack would have 
been determining, — but, fortunately for the country, 
that hour never came; — namely, when Longstreet 
should have overwhelmed Hancock, which, as I be- 
lieve upon my soul, he would have done had not Fate 
intervened. Hancock would probably have met the 
end of Wadsworth, inasmuch as he never would have 
left that key of the battle without pledging his life 
over and over again, — I say, had Gordon struck at 
that hour, nothing, I think, could have saved the 
Army of the Potomac. But so long as we held the 
Brock Road, I doubt very much if it would have been 
attended with any results more serious than it was. 

But let that be as it may, by half-past nine the tu- 
mult died down and the Wilderness resumed her 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 321 

large, deep silence. So great, however, was the con- 
fusion, and so keen the consciousness that a disaster 
had just been escaped, it was decided to establish a 
new line for Sedgwick; and accordingly the engineers 
proceeded in the darkness to lay one. Starting on the 
right of the Fifth Corps, they swung the line back 
along the ridge south of Caton's Run, resting its 
right across the Germanna Road, thus giving up all 
north of Caton's Run, including the Flat Run Road. 
The map shows the new line. It was near midnight 
when Sedgwick's men began to move into their retro- 
grade, and obviously defensive position. 

This acknowledged attitude of repulse, together 
with the dismaying experiences of Warren and Han- 
cock, threw the shadow of impending misfortune, 
which found expression far and wide that night in 
sullenly muttered predictions that the army would re- 
cross the Rapidan within the next twenty-four hours. 

And what should be more natural? For hitherto 
two days of conflict with the Army of Northern Vir- 
ginia south of the Rapidan and Rappahannock had 
marked the limit of the Army of the Potomac's 
bloody stay. The two days were up, between sixteen 
and seventeen thousand killed and wounded, the 
fighting in some respects more desperate than ever, 
and as a climax, the right flank crushed, as in Hooker's 
case! 

Was history to repeat itself? Already three long 
years of war! When will this thing end? Must we go 



822 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

back defeated, as in years gone by, and then try it 
over again? No, sorely and oft-tested veterans, you 
have crossed the Rapidan for the last time. At this 
hour to-morrow night you will be on the march 
toward Richmond; for, dark as it looks to you and to 
us all, the Rapidan will never hear your tread again 
till you are marching home from Appomattox. And 
I am sure the river will ask you, as you are on your 
way across it then, "Army of the Potomac, what has 
become of Lee's bugles that we used to hear on still 
nights? the singers of the hymns, and the voices of 
those who prayed in such humility for peace, for their 
firesides, and their Confederacy, — it is almost a year 
since we have heard them. What has become of them 
all?" And I think I can hear you reply tenderly, 
" We overcame them at Appomattox, have given them 
the best terms we could, have shared our rations and 
parted with them, hoping that God would comfort 
them and at last bless the Southland." And so He 
has. O Hate, where was thy victory? O Defeat, 
where was thy sting? 

To revert to Gordon's attack: the rumor was 
started that night — my friend, "Charley" McCon- 
nell of the Fifth Artillery, heard it and reported it to 
Sheridan — that Meade was ready to take the back 
track. Later in the campaign, when the burdens were 
lying heavy on his shoulders, and everybody should 
have stood by him, for the awful slaughter of Cold 
Harbor had just occurred, unscrupulous staff oflScers 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 323 

and newspaper correspondents whom he had offended 
declared the rumor to be a fact. Meade's temper! 
How much it cost him, and how long it kept the story 
going! Oh, if Fortune had hung a censer on his 
sword-hilt, and he could have swung the odor of 
sweet spices and fragrant gums under the nostrils 
of his fellow men, including cabinet officers, then, oh, 
then, his star would not be shining, as now, alone, 
and so far below Sheridan's and Sherman's ! His chief 
trouble was that he always made ill-breeding, shrewd- 
ness, and presuming mediocrity, uncomfortable. 

But as for his taking the back track, on the con- 
trary he is reported to have exclaimed, "By God! the 
army is across now, and it has got to stay across ! " If 
the oath were uttered, heard and recorded, then, at 
the last great day, when the book shall be opened and 
his name in order be called, " George Gordon Meade ! " 
and he shall rise and, uncovering, answer in his richly 
modulated voice "Here!" I believe, as the old fellow 
stands there at the bar of judgment, bleak his heart 
but unfaltering his eye, he will look so like an honest 
gentleman in bearing, that the Judge, after gazing at 
his furrowed face a while, will say with smothered 
emotion, "Blot out the oath and pass him in." I 
really hope at the bottom of my heart. Reader, that 
he will include you and me, and the bulk of the old 
Army of the Potomac; and, to tell the honest truth, I 
shall be unhappy if we do not find the old Army of 
Northern Virginia there, too. 



824 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Sheridan, the great Sheridan, for, whatever may 
have been his mould or the clay that was put in it, he 
was the one flaming Ithuriel of the North, by dark had 
drawn back from Todd's Tavern to Chancellorsville, 
and was encircHng the disquieted trains. Custer on 
going into bivouac near Welford's Furnace had scat- 
tered his buglers far and wide through the woods, with 
instructions to sound taps, to make the enemy believe 
that cavalry was there in thousands; and every little 
while up till midnight these notes would peal through 
the silent timber. Wilson was camped between Grant's 
headquarters and Chancellorsville, and that night 
Sheridan's chief of staff, Forsyth, shared his blanket 
with him. 

Well, with Gordon's attack over, the second day 
of Lee's and Grant's mighty struggle for mastery in 
the Wilderness ends, and great majestic night has 
fallen again. The losses of each have been appalling; 
and from Maine to the far-away Missouri (for Sher- 
man was moving also), there is not a neighborhood 
or a city where awe and anxiety are not deep, for all 
realize that on this campaign hangs the nation's 
life. The newspapers have proclaimed the armies 
in motion, and the thousands of letters written just 
as camps were breaking have reached home. The 
father has been to the post oflSce, he has a letter 
from Tom, the family assembles, and his voice trem- 
bles as he reads his brave boy's final tender message 
to him and the mother, who with uplifted apron is 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 325 

quenching her tears, and saying, struggling with emo- 
tion, "Perhaps our Tom will be spared; perhaps he 
will be." "Do not give way, mother; do not cry! Old 
Grant will win at last," exclaims the husband, as he 
puts the letter back into the envelope and goes over 
and strokes with loving hand his wife's bended brow. 
But let him or the North be as hopeful and consol- 
ing as might be, they could not drown the memory 
of the long train of consuming and depressing vicissi- 
tudes of the Army of the Potomac, which, with the 
other armies in Virginia, up to this time had lost, in 
killed, wounded, and missing, the awful aggregate of 
143,925 men, the majority of them under twenty-two. 
Yes, two days of awful suspense for the North have 
gone by, and city is calling to city, village to village, 
neighborhood to neighborhood, "What news from 
Grant?" Hour after hour draws on, and not a word 
from him. The village grocer has closed, and his 
habitual evening visitors have dispersed, the lights 
in the farm-houses have all gone out. Here and there 
a lamp blinks on the deserted, elm-shaded street, and 
in the dooryard of a little home on the back road off 
among the fields — the boy who went from there is 
a color-bearer lying in Hancock's front — a dog bays 
lonelily. The halfway querulous, potential, rumbling 
hum of the city has died down, "midnight clangs 
from the clocks in the steeples," and the night edi- 
tors of the great dailies in New York, Philadelphia, 
Boston, and Chicago are still holding back their is- 



326 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

sues, hoping that the next click of the fast operating 
telegraph will bring tidings, glad tidings of victory 
from the old Army of the Potomac. 

Mr. Lincoln cannot sleep, and at midnight, unable 
to stand the uncertainty any longer, asks Dana, As- 
sistant Secretary of War, to go down and see Grant 
and find out how it is going. At that very hour 
Grant's staff and all about headquarters, save a news- 
paper man, are asleep, and Grant, with the collar of 
his coat upturned, is sitting alone, with clouded face, 
looking into a little dying-down camp-fire, nervously 
shifting his legs over each other. Of all the tides in 
the remarkable career of this modest, quiet man, that 
of this midnight hour in the Wilderness is easily the 
highest in dramatic interest. What were the natural 
reflections, as he sat there alone at that still, solemn 
hour? 

Two days of deadly encounter; every man who 
could bear a musket had been put in; Hancock and 
Warren repulsed, Sedgwick routed, and now on the 
defensive behind breastworks; the cavalry drawn 
back; the trains seeking safety beyond the Rapidan; 
thousands and thousands of killed and wounded, — he 
can almost hear the latter's cries, so hushed is the 
night, — and the air pervaded with a lurking feeling 
of being face to face with disaster. WTiat, what is the 
matter with the Army of the Potomac? Was an evil, 
dooming spirit cradled with it, which no righteous zeal 
or courage can appease? And he shifts his position. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 327 

Let there be no mistake: Grant had reached the 
verge of the steepest crisis in his hfe; and I think 
under the circumstances he would not have been hu- 
man if the past had not come back. He sees himself 
rising from obscurity, and the howl of the wolf that 
has never been far from his door, drowned in the 
cheers of his countrymen over victories he had won; 
rising from a cloud of painful, uncharitable disrepute 
up to the chief command of all the armies and his 
country pinning its last hopes on his star. What a 
retrospect! Was it all a dream, a dream to be shat- 
tered by an unrelenting Fate? and did he deserve it.^ 
Self-pity is moving. He had done his best, he was 
conscious of no harm in thought or deed to any of 
his fellow men in his upward flight. He had loved 
his country as boy and man. And now was he to 
follow in the steps of McDowell, McClellan, Pope, 
Hooker, and Burnside, and land in his old home in 
Galena, a military failure? Was the sky that hung 
so black and lasted so long to cloud over again? 
The tide of feeling was up : he leaves the slumber- 
ing camp-fire for his tent, and I am told by one to 
whom it was confided, one of his very close aides, 
that he threw himself on the cot-bed, and some- 
thing like stifled, subdued sobs were heard. 

But before dawn broke, the cloud that had settled 
on him had lifted, and, when his attached friend. 
General Wilson, who was a member of his military 
family while at Vicksburg, disturbed over rumors, 



828 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

rode to his headquarters at an early hour, Grant, sit- 
ting before the door of his tent, said calmly, as Wilson, 
having dismounted some paces away, started towards 
him, with anxious face, "It's all right, Wilson; the 
Army of the Potomac will go forward to-night." And 
at 6.30 A. M. he sent the following order to Meade : — 

General: — Make all preparations during the day 
for a night march, to take position at Spotsylvania 
Court House with one army corps; at Todd's Tavern 
with one; and another near the intersection of Piney 
Branch and Spotsylvania Railroad with the road 
from Alsop's to Old Court House. If this move 
should be made, the trains should be thrown forward 
early in the morning to the Ny River. I think it 
would be advisable in making this change to leave 
Hancock where he is until Warren passes him. He 
could then follow and become the right of the new 
line. Burnside will move to Piney Branch Church. 
Sedgwick can move along the Pike to Chancellors- 
ville, thence to Piney Branch Church, and on to his 
destination. Burnside will move on the Plank Road, 
then follow Sedgwick to his place of destination. All 
vehicles should be got off quietly. It is more than 
probable the enemy will concentrate for a heavy at- 
tack on Hancock this afternoon. In case they do, we 
must be prepared to resist them and follow up any 
success we may gain with our whole force. Such a 
result would necessarily modify these instructions. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 329 

All the hospitals should be moved to-day to Chan- 
cellorsville. 

U. S. Grant, 
Lieutenant-General. 

To take up the thread of my return with the 
despatches. Impressed by Mrs. Allen's story and 
ominous satisfaction, I left the escort with directions 
to come on at its own marching gait, and hastened to 
Germanna Ford, crossed the river on the pontoon 
bridge, and, having gained the bluff, gave my horse 
the bit. He bore me speedily along the densely wood- 
bordered road, spotted by cast-away blankets and de- 
serted now, save that here and there lay prone a sick 
or completely exhausted Negro soldier of Ferrero's 
over-marched colored division. They were not ordi- 
nary stragglers, and I remember no more pleading 
objects. Most of them had lately been slaves, and 
across the years their hollow cheeks and plaintive 
sympathy-imploring eyes are still the lonesome road- 
side's bas-reliefs. 

The dewy morning air was steeped with the odor of 
burning woods, and the fire, although it had run its 
mad course, was still smoking faintly from stumps 
and fallen trees. This side of Flat Run it had come 
out of the woods and laid a crisp black mantle on the 
shoulders of an old field. 

Beyond the run (no one can cross it now without 
pausing, for, its large, umbrella-topped water-birches 



330 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

standing in clumps will capture the eye with their 
sombre vistas), suddenly (and much to my surprise), 
I came squarely against a freshly-spaded line of en- 
trenchments with troops of the Sixth Corps behind 
it; and in less time than it takes to tell, I was in the 
presence of General Sedgwick and his staff. The 
rather stubby, kindly-faced general was dismounted, 
and with several of his aides was sitting on the pine- 
needle-strewn bank of the road. His left cheek-bone 
bore a long, black smudge which I suspect had been 
rubbed on during the night by coming in contact with 
a charred limb while he was rallying his men. From 
Beaumont or Kent of his staff, or possibly from 
"Charity" Andrews of Wilson's class (for I remember 
distinctly having a short talk with him either then or 
later on the way to Meade's headquarters), I got an 
account of what had happened. 

In a few minutes I was at the Pike, — the fog and 
smoke were so deep one could barely see the Lacy 
house, — and turned up to Grant's headquarters on 
the knoll. Meade was standing beside Seth W^illiams, 
the adjutant-general, when I handed the latter the 
despatches, saying that I had received his orders to 
return with them and that I had not been able 
to make telegraphic connection with Washington. 
Meade asked, "Where did you cross the Rapidan 
this morning?" I replied, "At Germanna Ford, on 
the pontoon bridge." "Is that bridge still down.^*" 
he demanded sharply. "Yes, at least it was when I 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 331 

crossed only a little while ago." Whereupon he turned 
and in a gritty, authoritative tone of command called 
out, "Duane!" Duane was chief engineer on his 
staff and was eigh,t or ten feet away, talking with 
some one. I had noticed him particularly, for his 
back was literally plastered with fresh mud, his horse 
having reared and fallen backward with him. On his 
approaching, Meade, looking fiercer than an eagle, 
wanted to know why the bridge was still down, orders 
having been given at half -past eleven the night before 
for its immediate removal to Ely's Ford. I was 
mighty glad that I was not in Duane's shoes, for 
Meade did not spare him. 

It seems that immediately after Gordon's attack, 
Humphreys or Williams sent Charles Francis Adams, 
of Boston, then in command of a squadron of the 
First Massachusetts Cavalry, with orders to the 
officer in charge of the bridge, directing him to take 
it up and proceed with the pontoons to Ely's Ford. 
For some reason or other, for which Duane was not 
at all responsible, the orders were not obeyed. 

Having returned the letters which my friends had 
given me to their respective writers, I got a little 
something to eat, then went to Edie's tent and was 
soon fast asleep. 

The chronicle of the third day, whose early hours I 
had passed on my way from Rappahannock Station, 
is about as follows. Some time during the night it was 
reported to Hancock that the enemy could be heard 



332 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

moving, and General Barlow, on whose picket line 
the report probably originated, thought, as Gibbon 
the day before had thought, that the enemy was 
massing to attack him. Stonewall Jackson's exploit 
still hung like a spectre around the left of Han- 
cock's corps. On the strength of Barlow's alarming 
chirp, so to speak, Birney ordered each of his di- 
visions to put three-fourths of their commands in 
the front line of entrenchments and the balance in 
the second (at this point just south of the Plank 
Road it will be remembered that there were three or 
four lines of breastworks, the outcome of Field's as- 
sault). Hancock's despatch conveying Barlow's news 
and impression reached Humphreys at 4.40, and by 
that hour daybreak had passed on. 

About the same time Burnside sent in a report that 
his pickets too had heard wagons and troops of the 
enemy moving busily toward the south through the 
night, this in a way confirming Barlow's report. As a 
matter of fact the enemy were not leaving Burnside's 
front, nor were they massing to attack Barlow. 

But to illustrate the nervous state of our corps 
commanders, Warren, a little later, at 7.40 a. m., re- 
ported to Humphreys that Roebling had heard cheer- 
ing in the direction of Parker's store, — they probably 
had just been told of Gordon's success the night before, 
— that he had no doubt the enemy was passing a 
heavy force along his front, and if they were to con- 
centrate upon him, in the fog and smoke they might 



,THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 333 

break through. In view of this possibility he urged the 
construction of a line on the ridge east of Wilderness 
Run, and that Hancock should make a determined 
attack — the suggestion obviously springing from 
Burnside's report of the enemy leaving his front, 
which must have been communicated to Warren. 
Warren ended his despatch with, "You know how 
much more important our right is to our army just 
now than the left." Here we have another instance 
of Warren's tendency to put his finger in the pie. The 
only way I can account for this nervousness is by the 
experiences of the two days' fighting and the presence 
of the looming fog and smoke. We are all more or 
less apprehensive if not cowardly when wrapped in a 
heavy fog and unseen danger close at hand. Warren, 
fearing they were forming to come down the Pike, 
had Griffin shell the woods. Even Meade seemed 
to have been flustered, for just after hearing from 
Warren he despatched Hancock: "It is of the utmost 
importance that I should know as soon as possible 
what force, if any, of the enemy is on your left. Please 
ascertain by any means in your power. . . . There 
are indications of the enemy massing in front of 
Warren ; either you or he is to be attacked and I think 
he, from their abandoning the Plank Road." Here 
we have the re-reflection of Burnside's report. 

In accordance with Warren's suggestions Comstock 
and artillery officers were sent to select a line on the 
elevated ground east of the run; and Warren, to 



334 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

make sure of getting back to it if compelled to do so, 
set some of the engineer battalions and detachments 
of the Fifteenth New York Engineer Regiment to 
making bridges across the run. But from all we can 
learn, his anxiety was wholly unfounded, for there is no 
evidence that Lee at any time during the day enter- 
tained a thought of attacking. The fact is, he had 
shot his bolt, and so had Grant. Nor is it at all likely 
that Lee seriously considered making a strategic 
move; his disparity of numbers was too great for 
risking wide manoeuvring. Moreover, he knew that 
in the nature of things Grant would have to choose 
within the next twenty-four hours between renewed 
assault, retreat, or advance, and hoping he might 
choose retreat, he left the door to the Rapidan wide 
open behind him. But, as illustrative of how the 
Army of the Potomac credited Lee's fighting spirit, 
Wilson, before the sun was very high, was directed by 
Sheridan to send a brigade toward Sedgwick's right 
and find out if the enemy had made any movement 
in that direction. Meade became restless on not get- 
ting word promptly from the cavalry, and at 8.45 a. m. 
said in a despatch to Sedgwick, "I cannot understand 
the non-receipt of intelligence from your cavalry. 
Single horsemen are constantly arriving from the ford 
signifying the Plank Road is open." — I was doubt- 
less one of the single horsemen referred to. — How 
inconsistent is all this nervousness with the claim 
that we won a victory in the Wilderness. 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 335 

By ten o'clock, the fog and smoke having lifted, 
and Warren being able to see everything, he tells 
Crawford that he thinks Lee is retreating! Lee 
retreating! Did he not wait defiantly a day after 
Antietam and a like time after Gettysburg, inviting 
assault? No, he was not given to abandoning fields, 
and the men knew it; so, the army, crouching, con- 
fronted its dangerous adversary with vigilance unre- 
laxed, prepared to meet a lunge as a tiger which had 
felt another's teeth and claws. 

Hancock, in receipt of Meade's anxious despatch, 
sent Miles along the unfinished railway, and Birney 
up the Plank Road. Miles executed his orders with 
his usual vigor, and located Lee's right about five 
hundred yards south of the railway. Birney found 
Field behind strong entrenchments this side of the 
Widow Tapp's field, practically on the spot where he 
went into bivouac after his unsuccessful assault the 
evening before. Both Miles and Birney, in pushing 
their lines hard up against the enemy, met with con- 
siderable losses. 

Sheridan had, on his own initiative, pushed Custer 
back along the Furnace Road to the Brock; and, at 
noon, having gained the import of Grant's order to 
Meade for his night move, sent Gregg and Merritt to 
drive the enemy from Piney Branch Church and 
Todd's Tavern, so as to clear the way for Warren and 
the trains. This was not accomplished till after sun- 
down, and only by the hardest and most resolute kind 



336 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

of fighting. Sheridan won the hotly contested field, 
Stuart leaving, among his dead, Collins, Colonel of 
the Fifteenth Virginia Cavalry. But Stuart still held 
the road to Spotsylvania, and never did his cavalry 
or any other do better fighting than was done the 
next morning resisting Merritt and Warren. 

Out of a tender memory of Collins's fate, — he had 
been our tall, light-haired, modest, pink-cheeked 
adjutant at West Point, — while my horses were 
crunching their dinner of corn on the ear, I walked 
over the ground last May where he fell. It had lately 
been raggedly ploughed; and catching sight of a 
couple of daisies in bloom, I went to them. And now 
if those to whom sentiment in prose is unpleasing — 
and there are many such in the world, and too, too 
often have I offended them already — will excuse me, 
I '11 say that as I stood over the daisies, a gentle wind 
came along, they waved softly, and with a heart full 
of auld lang syne, I said, "For the sake of my West 
Point fellow-cadet, and for the sake of days to come, 
and for the Southern sweetheart he married, wave 
and bloom on, Daisies!" 

Could Sheridan have made his attack with all of his 
cavalry (Wilson had gone with a part of his division 
to look after Sedgwick's right), it might have put 
links of an entirely different character in the chain of 
events. 

W^ilson went far enough with Mcintosh's brigade 
to satisfy himself that the Germanna Ford Road was 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 337 

clear, and then, to be doubly sure, sent Mcintosh to 
the ford itself. 

At a quarter to one Mcintosh in a despatch to 
Sedgwick from Germanna Ford reported: "The road 
is all open. One battalion of the Fifth New York 
Cavalry crossed the ford this morning at 7 a. m. They 
came from Rappahannock Station and left that sta- 
tion at 2.30 this morning." This, of course, was my 
escort. 

And now, a strange thing happened. Just after 
Mcintosh's despatch, announcing a clear road, was 
received, one came to hand from Colonel S. T. 
Crooks, of the Twenty-second New York, picketing 
between Flat Run and the ford, saying that the 
enemy's pickets were on the road, and that a short 
distance down the Rapidan large columns of dust 
could be seen, Mcintosh meanwhile having moved 
to Ely's Ford. Thereupon Meade grew furious, and 
sent this message to poor Crooks: "You will consider 
yourself under arrest for having sent false informa- 
tion in relation to the enemy. You will turn your 
command over to the next in rank, directing that 
officer to report to Colonel Hammond commanding 
Fifth New York Cavalry for orders." 

What were the facts.? General A. L. Long, chief of 
artillery of E well's corps and late biographer of Lee, 
says: "I was directed by General Ewell to make a 
reconnaissance in the direction of Germanna Ford. 
Taking one brigade of infantry and two battalions of 



338 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

artillery, I advanced to the Germanna Road, striking 
it about a mile from the ford. Two or three regiments 
of cavalry were occupying the road at this point. 
They were soon driven away by a couple of well- 
directed shots. It was discovered that the enemy had 
almost entirely abandoned the ford and road. It was 
evident that they were leaving our front." I do not 
know what ever became of Colonel Crooks, but I 
hope he was righted at last, 

I do not recall seeing Grant during the day, but he 
is reported by one who was near him to have been 
deeply absorbed, and to have visited the line between 
Burnside and Warren, his eyes resting on the Chewn- 
ing farm on the Parker's Store Road. As to his an- 
tagonist, Gordon says Lee invited him early in the 
forenoon to ride with him over the ground of his 
movement of the night before. While on the ride, Lee 
expressed his conviction that if he could check Grant, 
such a crisis in public affairs in the North would arise 
as might lead to an armistice; and I am almost sure 
he was right. Gordon says he referred to the rumors 
that Grant was retreating, and that Lee gave them 
no credit, predicting, on the contrary, that he would 
move toward Spotsylvania. 

Meanwhile the rear of both armies contrasted 
sharply with their fronts. Scattered over the dulled, 
impoverished fields, amid flooding sunshine, — for 
after the smoke and fog had broken up and gone, it 
was a beautiful, serenely smiling day, — lay the ar- 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 339 

tillery and the multitudinous trains, their animals 
harnessed and hitched, dozing where they stood. 
Men and drivers lounged in groups near their guns 
and teams, some sound asleep, some playing cards, 
here and there one writing home, and here and there, 
too, a bohemian dog that had been picked up and 
adopted, curled down, nose on paws and eyes half- 
closed, but out for what was going on. Yes, a battle- 
field has a wide compass, very human and interesting. 
About noon orders were issued for the wounded to 
be loaded in trains, and, under an escort of thirteen 
hundred cavalry, taken across the Rapidan at Ely's 
Ford and on to Rappahannock Station, there to meet 
cars that were to be sent out from Alexandria. The 
wounded were divided into three classes, those who 
could walk, those able to ride in the wagons, and, 
third, the most severely wounded, including those 
suffering from fractures, or from some recent ampu- 
tation, and, most unfortunate of all, those whose 
wounds had penetrated the breast or abdominal 
cavities. The wagons, having assembled at the vari- 
ous hospitals (there were 325 of them and 488 ambu- 
lances), were thickly bedded with evergreen boughs 
on which shelter tents and blankets were spread. 
Dalton was put in charge of the train, Winne and 
other corps inspectors aiding at the respective hos- 
pitals in getting the necessary supplies together, and 
selecting and loading the wounded. It was approach- 
ing midnight before the train, with its seven thousand 



340 lTHE battle OF THE WILDERNESS 

souls, either on foot or being carried, was ready to 
move; nearly a thousand had to be left on account of 
lack of transportation. No one can appreciate, unless 
he has been witness of such scenes, the strain upon 
the surgeons that night. I have often thought that 
they never received a full measure of recognition for 
their humane services. 

I Let us not follow the train in the darkness, for 
almost every wagon is a hive of moans, and we should 
hear horrible cries of agony breaking from the men as 
the wheels grind on boulders or jounce across roots, 
the piercing shrieks mingling with the shouts of 
drivers and clanking of trace-chains. Before Dalton 
got to the ford, orders came to countermarch and 
proceed to Fredericksburg with the poor fellows. 
Whenever an unrighteous war shall be urged upon our 
country by the unscrupulously ambitious or thought- 
less, I wish that the Wilderness, Spotsylvania, and 
Cold Harbor would lay bare all that they remember. 
In this connection here is what Keifer says: "On 
my arrival at hospital about 2 P. M. I was carried 
through an entrance to a large tent, on each side of 
which lay human legs and arms, resembling piles of 
stove wood, the blood only excepted. All around were 
dead and wounded men, many of the latter dying. 
The surgeons, with gleaming, sometimes bloody, 
knives and instruments, were busy at their work. I 
soon was laid on the rough-board operating- table and 
chloroformed." 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 341 

Notwithstanding this frightful record, I think I can 
hear the Wilderness exclaim with holy exultation, 
" Deep as the horrors were, the battles that were 
fought in my gloom were made glorious by the prin- 
ciples at stake : and I cherish every drop of the gallant 
blood that was shed." 

Lee, after his ride with Gordon, went back to his 
headquarters and directed Stuart and Pendleton to 
thoroughly acquaint themselves with the roads on 
the right, which the army would have to follow 
should Grant undertake to move, as he thought he 
might, toward Spotsylvania ; the latter, to cut a 
path through the woods to facilitate the infantry's 
march in reaching the Catharpin Road. The filing 
of our ammunition and headquarters trains past the 
Wilderness Tavern in the forenoon, preliminary to 
clearing the way for Warren and the general move- 
ment, and visible from Lee's lines, make the sources 
of these precautions plain. Lee established his 
headquarters for the night at Parker's store, and 
between sundown and dark directed Anderson, whom 
he had assigned to Longstreet's command, to go 
to Spotsylvania either by Todd's Tavern or Shady 
Grove Church, and Ewell to conform his movements 
to those of the troops on his right; and if at daylight 
he found no large force in his front, to follow Ander- 
son toward Spotsylvania. It is obvious from these 
orders that Lee was not fully informed of the situa- 
tion, for at that very hour Sheridan was in full pos- 



342 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

session of Todd's Tavern, and " Charley " McCon- 
nell of Pittsburg was probably burying Collins, the 
friend of his youth. It may interest some readers 
to know that he cut off a lock of Collins's hair before 
he laid him in his narrow bed, and that that lock at 
last reached loving hands and is preserved. 

General Pendleton went to see Anderson, de- 
scribed the route he was to take, and left one of his 
aides as a guide, Lee having directed Anderson (his 
despatch is dated seven p. m.) to start as soon as he 
could withdraw safely. Anderson, rather a slow but 
valiant man, had fixed on starting at three, but was 
under way by eleven, and those four hours gained 
were mighty valuable to Lee. 

Meade's orders for the movements of the night 
were issued at three p. m., and, like all those written 
by Humphreys, are models of explicitness. Sedgwick 
was to move at 8.30, by way of the Pike and Chan- 
cellorsville and thence to Piney Branch Church; 
Warren was to set off for Spotsylvania by way of 
the Brock Road. Their pickets were to be withdrawn 
at one a. m. Burnside was to follow Sedgwick, and 
Hancock was to stand fast. The sun was just above 
the tree-tops when Warren with his staff left the 
Lacy house. For some reason that I do not know, 
instead of following the Germanna Road to the 
Brock, he took the Pike, and just as we gained the 
brow of the hill at the old Wilderness Tavern there 
was borne from the enemy's lines on the still evening 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 343 

air the sound of distant cheering. I halted and 
turned my horse's head in the direction whence it 
came, that is, up the run, whose trough-hke valley, 
with its timbered head, lay resting against the up- 
heaved openings of the Widow Tapp and Chewning 
farms. The sun was now lodged halfway in the tree- 
tops, and looked like a great, red copper ball. I think 
I can hear that Confederate line cheering yet. At the 
time I supposed that, seeing us on the move, they 
thought we had had enough of it, and were seeking 
safety at Fredericksburg. It seems, however, to have 
been unpremeditated and to have been started by 
some North Carolina regiment in the right of their 
line cheering Lee, who happened to go by them. As- 
suming that it was a cry of defiance, the adjacent 
brigade took it up, and, like a wave on the beach, it 
broke continuously along their entire line. And after 
dying away, from their right beyond the unfinished 
railway to their extreme left resting on Flat Run, it 
was followed by two more like surges. 

Cheers never broke on a stiller evening. There is 
not a breath of air, the flushing west is fading fast, the 
world is on the verge of twilight, and trees, roads, 
fields, and distances are dimming as they clothe 
themselves in its pensive mystery. Where now are 
the scenes and the sounds of only three evenings ago? 
Where are all the men who were singing in their 
bivouacs along Wilderness Run? Where are Wads- 
worth, Hays, Jenkins, Jones, Stafford, McElwain, 



344 THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 

Campbell Brown, Griswold, and "Little" Abbott? 
And where are the hopes and plans of Grant and Lee 
when the sun went down on the first night in the 
Wilderness. Well! well! and all will be well! 

The Pike to Chancellorsville is packed with mov- 
ing trains. The resolute batteries that stood on the 
slope, where the little chapel stands now, have pulled 
out, crossed the run, and their heavy wheels are roll- 
ing over and muttering their rumbling jars; they will 
hear no bugle-calls for taps to-night, nor will three 
thousand dead. The sunset flush has ebbed from the 
west, the lone, still trees are growing black, and the 
overhead dome vaulting the old fields of the Lacy 
plantation is filling with a wan hushed light. 

Wilderness Run now utters its first audible gurgle, 
night is falling fast on the earth, and weary day is 
closing her eyes. Grant's and Meade's headquarters 
tents are struck, the orderlies are standing by the 
saddled horses, the men are waiting behind the 
breastworks in the already dark woods for the word 
silently to withdraw. A few minutes more and the 
Lacy farm will be hidden. Now it is gone; and here 
comes the head of Warren's corps with banners afloat. 
What calm serenity, what unquenchable spirit, are 
in the battle-flags! On they go. Good-by, old fields, 
deep woods, and lonesome roads. And murmuring 
runs. Wilderness, and Caton's, you too farewell. 

The head of Warren's column has reached the 
Brock Road, and is turning south. At once the men 



THE BATTLE OF THE WILDERNESS 345 

catch what it means. Oh, the Old Army of the Poto- 
mac is not retreating ! and in the dusky Hght, as Grant 
and Meade pass by, they give them high, ringing 
cheers. 

And now we are passing Hancock's hnes, and never, 
never shall I forget the scene. Dimly visible but 
almost within reach from our horses, the gallant men 
of the Second Corps are resting against the charred 
parapets, from which they hurled Field. Here and 
there is a weird little fire, groups of mounted oflScers 
stand undistinguishable in the darkness, and up in 
the towering tree-tops of the thick woods beyond 
the entrenchments tongues of yellow flames are puls- 
ing from dead limbs lapping the black face of night. 
All, all is deathly still. We pass on, cross the un- 
finished railway, then Poplar Run, and then up a 
shouldered hill. Our horses are walking slowly. We 
are in dismal pine woods, the habitation of thousands 
of whippoorwills uttering their desolate notes un- 
ceasingly. Now and then a sabre clanks, and close 
behind us the men are toiling on. 

It is midnight. Todd's Tavern is two or three 
miles away. Deep, deep is the silence. Jehovah 
reigns; Spotsylvania and Cold Harbor are waiting 
for us; and here we end. 



CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 



31^77-1 



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